


Waking to Another Sky

by Vathara



Category: Stargate SG-1, Sword Art Online
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Evil Bureaucracy, Fix-It of Sorts, Gamer lingo, Gen, Genetic Engineering, Hacking, Laughing Coffin - Freeform, Law of Unintended Consequences, Mad Science, Nerd/military translation oh dear, Possible Nightmare Fuel, Swordfighting, leeroy jenkins - Freeform, poor communication kills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vathara/pseuds/Vathara
Summary: Daniel wanted to ease the wider world into the idea of What's Out There. Hammond wanted a way to teach soldiers toduckwhen the purple-tentacled cat-octopus-thing went for them. The NID... wanted something a little more ambitious.When dealing with Kayaba... be careful what you ask for.





	1. Game Start

**Author's Note:**

> I own neither Sword Art Online nor Stargate. Credit to Kryal for coming up with the “Stargate/DHD may download grammar and vocab to your head” idea. SAO and SG are both AU’d a bit to fit together better. The most major changes: a few players are going to be American, Kayaba’s fate will be slightly different, I’ve moved the events of Stargate forward a decade or so to match up better with SAO, and SAO has also been moved back a decade, taking advantage of alien tech. Roughly, the game started in what would be late 1998 of the original Stargate timeline (second season), and ends... you’ll see. Thanks to Catsy for bringing up latency on the SAO forums; it made things _interesting._

“Wow.” Colonel Jack O’Neill peered out the SUV’s windshield as he parked, trying to look suitably impressed at the massive multistory hospital tucked into an odd corner of the Cheyenne Mountain base. Barely a speck of a building compared to a ha’tak, it was about as close as you could get to the SGC and still be off the main roads. Less than a mile, he’d bet, as the crow flew; so long as the crow could fly through solid rock. “Call Walter Reed. They want their rehab back.”

Which might have been the wrong thing to say, given how Dr. Janet Fraiser had just thumped her head on the passenger-side dashboard. But hey, even a mini-Napoleon needed somebody to throw sarcasm at.

“I know no one’s managed to frog-march you into anywhere with ‘veteran’, ‘rehab’, or ‘physical therapy’ in the title before, Colonel,” Janet grumbled, “but given what we have pieced together about the SAO technology, you and your team are going to accompany me into the Project Bluebook Rehabilitation Center _whether you like it or not_. Just in case any of you have seen, or heard of, or even stumbled across a _rumor_ that might let us pick our way into Kayaba’s black box.” The redhead gave him a wry look. “And we stole it from the NID, not Walter Reed. They still call the general every month to ask for it back.”

See? Sarcasm.

Wait, what?

“The NID? Built a rehab center?” Jack said skeptically. “What were they on, and when can we turn it loose on the Goa’uld?”

Behind him, Sam cleared her throat. “Given the usual casualty rate they accept in Jaffa training, I doubt the Goa’uld would have any interest in the potential therapeutic applications of virtual reality environments, sir.”

Bracing against Janet’s seat, Daniel nudged up his glasses and rested his face against the window, probably so cool glass could calm down a road-sick stomach. “Of course, that’s not what the NID was really interested in, either.”

Sitting stoically between their two armed geeks, hat pulled over his First Prime mark, Teal’c gave Jack a raised brow. “I believe you were otherwise occupied when we took the facility a year ago. On involuntary leave.”

Translation, stuck on Edora for three months, thinking the Stargate was sealed forever. And that was a whole can of worms in itself. The way Laira had stood when he’d left, all but shouting that she hoped he’d left her pregnant... yeah. He hadn’t been in the best headspace for a while.

“It is unfortunate you missed the opportunity,” Teal’c mused, dark eyes obviously letting the past be past. “We were able to properly secure the exits and command center swiftly, so we had few casualties, and no fatalities. The majority of the personnel were unaware of the rogue NID in their midst. They were outraged when we explained, and they have been most trustworthy allies since.” A slight smile. “Janet Fraiser declared the exercise... stress reduction.”

“And you think the critters are cute,” Janet put in, almost grinning.

“They are not unappealing. And the fact that their Tau’ri caretakers find some of those who are awake pleasant company is intriguing.”

“Critters?” Jack eyed them both. “Okay, Doc. Take it from the top. We’ve been kind of busy for a while, something about getting blasted into the next galaxy and blowing up a sun....”

Sam reddened.

“So lay it on us.”

Janet took a deep breath, and sighed. “Why not. We’ve got a clearer picture now of the timeline than we did when Kayaba first dropped his little bombshell, anyway.” She drummed her fingers on the dash, eyes shadowed as she collected her thoughts. “Colonel. You and the general both admit that the casualty ratio for the first Stargate missions was... high.”

Yeah. Ow.

“Janet, we end up on alien planets,” Daniel argued. “No one could have done any better.”

“Without a way to simulate being on an entirely different world,” Janet agreed. “Where the sun might not rise in the east. Where magnetic north isn’t. Where the saber-toothed tigers might be friendly, and that pretty green moss might kill you when you step on it. All the weird and crazy details that disorient everyone who goes through the ‘Gate. I know. That’s what Akihiko Kayaba’s FullDive technology was supposed to give us.”

“Kayaba.” Jack frowned. The name sounded familiar. “Videogame guy, right?”

“Massively multiplayer online games do _use_ video, so technically, yes,” Daniel said judiciously.

“FullDive is a lot more, sir,” Sam stated. “Between its rendering technology and the NervGear, you have full sensory immersion. Not like the Gamekeeper’s pods,” she said hastily. “You can tell it’s not real, things look... a little too smooth. Like that Advent Children movie they did with motion-capture. But it’s very realistic. Stand in the sun and you feel warm. If the wind blows, you smell the leaves. And if you end up in a firefight scenario... it’s pretty convincing.”

“As I understand it from General Hammond,” Janet picked up the story, “Kayaba was working with some of the less classified SGC reports to create training scenarios. At the same time, he was a game designer. And our friendly local anthropologist had some thoughts.”

“I did.” From the way Daniel winced, he regretted ever having those thoughts. “It seemed like a good idea?”

“It was, indeed, a valid thought, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said firmly. “It is not your doing that Akihiko Kayaba is a dishonorable man.”

Oh boy. That didn’t sound good.

Daniel sighed. “Jack... one of these days, the Stargate isn’t going to be classified anymore. And then what? People are going to find out we’ve been dealing with aliens. That the planet’s almost been destroyed dozens of times. That humanity’s best friends can’t figure out this thing we call _clothes_....”

Jack tried to stifle a snicker. He liked Thor, but Daniel had the Asgard pegged.

“Anyway. I thought if a few things we’d run into showed up in online games, the ideas would at least be out in the culture,” Daniel went on. “To cushion the shock, for when it all goes public. Kayaba thought it was a great idea. One that fit right in with the next game he was putting together. Where players would be visiting different worlds on every level, and there wouldn’t be any magic. Players would have to rely on their wits, and their weapons.” The archaeologist took a deep breath. “Sword Art Online.”

Oh. Shit.

Now Jack remembered the name, and wished he hadn’t. _International criminal_ Akihiko Kayaba, on the BOLO list of every country that had access to the Internet, and wanted by Japan and the U.S. in particular. Japan because it was their people he’d trapped in his little death game, and the U.S. because....

Well. Officially, _horrible humanitarian disaster, can’t stand by while one of our staunchest allies_ , and so on, and so on. Unofficially, certain organizations in the United States, courtesy of tech provided by the SGC, had been experimenting with tech that would let part of the internet move even _faster_. He didn’t know all the geeky details, but the ‘Gate techs had been drooling enough to dumb it down for him: forget building servers in the Big Apple to make microsecond trades on Wall Street. With this tech, you could plant them in Antarctica, and nobody would notice.

_Well, maybe the penguins_.

Awesome stuff. Useful stuff. And just like vaccines, dynamite, and GPS, potentially dangerous stuff in the wrong hands. Like, say, a mass murderer who’d never lifted a finger to kill; take one of his booby-trapped NervGears off some poor schmuck’s head, and they _died_.

Normally Jack laughed at game ratings. But just this once, he was glad some parents treated them as gospel. SAO was supposed to be region-locked to Japan, and it’d been rated 15 and up on top of that. Cassie had been thirteen. But she’d watched enough anime to think she could fake it through the game, and she’d had an older, geekier classmate who thought he was hot stuff with computer overrides - and he’d been counting the weeks until he turned fifteen.

_We got lucky. So lucky_. “Wait. You mean it wasn’t just the super-speed relay stuff? We were backing _that?_ ”

“The NID was, with some input from us,” Janet said steadily. “He double-crossed them, too.”

Which was kind of impressive, just from the sheer chutzpah of it. “Bastard killed ten thousand people. Why hasn’t anybody filleted him yet?”

“First, because we can’t find him,” Janet answered, just as grim. “Second... if we do find him, we want him _alive_.” She pointed at the building ahead of them. “Because about six thousand people are still caught in his trap.”

Jack had to blink at that. “Alive? I heard....” Newscasts. About a year ago. Day of mourning, whole nine yards. He’d still been shaken up after Edora, and not paying attention to much of anything that happened outside the Mountain. “We lied to the press.”

“We didn’t,” Janet said sourly. “ _We_ don’t exist. Officially. And as much as I hate to say it, I’m not sure keeping their survival quiet is a bad thing. Even if they wake up tomorrow... we’re still trying to figure out what Kayaba’s doing to them.” She rubbed her forehead. “Nobody noticed during the first month. So many people were dying. But three months in? Six months? These people are in a coma, Colonel. But they’re not losing muscle tone. Some of them are even building it. That _doesn’t happen_.” She straightened. “So the hospitals started looking deeper. As much as they could, given you can’t unplug them for more than ten minutes without killing them, and you can’t take the NervGear off. Which means an MRI is out.” She took a deep breath. “They started finding aberrant proteins. Things that were close to human normal, but - not. Finally, about a year back, someone analyzed brain tissue from an autopsy that tripped an SGC flag. Because it matched genetic information we got from the NID’s... rogue operation.”

Makepeace’s little offworld wrecking crew. Oh. _Great_. “What, they took sperm samples before they went out to get themselves killed?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Janet smirked. “But these were apparently samples from a body - several bodies, if the X chromosomes are telling the truth - that a System Lord went to great lengths to preserve.”

And if the Goa’uld wanted it, Earth wanted to know why. “What _kind_ of body?”

“That’s the odd part,” Janet allowed. “It has to be human. Because it turns out some of those genes weren’t quite as alien as we thought.” She shrugged. “There’s a doctor in Scotland, Carson Beckett, who’s done a lot of work on that particular odd genome. Some humans have it. Some don’t. He works with a lot of Japanese geneticists, that’s how this got flagged in the first place....” Dark eyes narrowed. “That day, Kayaba sent us a little message about being slow to catch on. It had some information. Enough for us to realize _this_ little facility was a lot more than it looked like.”

“The basement has levels that weren’t in the official blueprints,” Carter said. “On the lowest level, we found the SAO servers.”

“Say what? How did he get those here from Japan-” Jack cut himself off, thumping knuckles against his forehead as the penny dropped. “Oh, let me guess. They were never _in_ Japan.”

“Got it in one, sir.” Carter grimaced. “The servers the Japanese government kept trying to hack into were deliberate dead ends. The real computers SAO was running on have always been here.” She drew a breath. “But that’s not all. Sir, there were seven sub-basements we didn’t know about. And in those....” She spread her hands, and craned her head around the seat to glance at Teal’c.

“Confined on those levels are animals that are not of this planet.” The Jaffa lifted a hairless brow. “Many of those creatures are also in NervGear.”

Okay. Revise the day up to _really bad_. “Any ideas why?”

“According to one of the veterinarians, Kayaba claimed the creatures were test subjects,” Janet answered. “Both for long-term NervGear use, and experiments for gathering data on alien sensory modes.” She glanced down, eyes in shadow, obviously chewing over what she knew to give him the most mission-specific info. “Dr. Flint never found anything official to confirm it, but he thought Kayaba wanted to make alien encounter scenarios as realistic as possible. If the player made a noise the creatures could hear, he wanted them to react. If the species didn’t use vision, he wanted to know how they’d perceive the world, and what scenarios would let the players figure out they were dealing with something blind, so they could use that to their advantage. Or find out the hard way being blind didn’t matter.”

Heh. Jack had to admit, that would be useful. Plenty of new recruits couldn’t get their heads around the fact that a blind man could kill you just as dead as a sighted one. All he had to do was figure out where you were. “You trust an NID doctor?”

“I don’t have to trust him with you, no matter how tempting it might be.” Janet leaned back against her seat, relaxed and wry. “He’s a vet, Colonel. As in, animal doctor.” A minimal shrug. “Apparently they picked him up after he found something odd washed up on the Jersey Shore. Then they made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

Daniel sat up straight. “They threatened his family?”

“Kind of.” Janet shook her head. “Move to Colorado Springs and take the job, or face an IRS audit.” She spread empty hands, and smirked. “Bad call for them. Flint documented everything. Believe me, Colonel. He was glad to see us take over.”

The IRS? Did the NID’s evil know no bounds? “So, we’ve got aliens in NervGear, and humans in the same stuff... any chance some kind of feedback is what’s got them all stuck?”

“Technical experts believe any interaction between two entities in the system would be mediated by their electronic connection to the servers supporting Kayaba’s programs.” Teal’c was not a happy camper. “It is possible players were intended to encounter these creatures. With no knowledge of alien behaviors, such encounters would be dangerous to both sides.”

Janet frowned.

Jack glanced between them, and put on a Yoda voice. “Some hostility I sense in you.”

That won a smile from both sides. “Just a difference of opinion,” Janet admitted. “With two experts from different areas of expertise looking at the same data, it happens.”

Uh-huh. And whenever it happened with Sam and Daniel, things usually got messy. Blowing up planets messy. “So, lay it out for me.”

“Death rate,” Janet said quietly. “Teal’c and I went over the SAO players’ records once everyone was transferred and stable here. The highest death rate was in the first month. After that it tapered off in a fairly steep curve. There are two ways to explain that. Disease death rate, and attrition.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. Glanced at Teal’c. Who inclined his head to the doctor, yielding her the first argument.

“If it’s a disease death rate,” Janet obliged, “then it’s probably caused by the alterations Kayaba’s inflicting on them. The first few weeks would have wiped out everyone who couldn’t handle the alterations at all. After that... my best guess is, we have three groups of people.” One finger went up. “Some people are highly resistant to what Kayaba’s doing. He can thump on their systems all day; it just won’t take.” A second finger. “People who are highly _adaptive_. For some reason, their systems just click with the alterations, and the modifications go full speed ahead.” She clenched her fist. “Then we’ve got a bunch in the middle who could go either way. That’s where we see most of the deaths.”

“Okay,” Jack said thoughtfully. If anything about this was okay. “So what’s the attrition explanation?”

“The rate of deaths is not unlike that the SGC suffered in its first years of operation,” Teal’c stated. “Nor is it unlike that of a new human colony, planted by the Goa’uld on an unfamiliar world.”

Jack gave him a focused look. “They’re right here.”

“Their bodies remain on Earth,” Teal’c agreed. “We do not know where their minds may have ventured. Fear can kill.” He cast a look at the hospital, an old general sizing up an enemy camp. “If a Goa’uld had taken a group of Tau’ri and dropped them on a newly-discovered world, I would expect such deaths. The first to die would be the weak, the fearful, the reckless. Once they had been culled, the survivors would be much harder to kill. Yet there would always be the chance of a danger unmet before, and even the strongest survivor may make a mistake.” Dark eyes were fathomless wells. “Kayaba claimed he would create SGC game scenarios. If unprepared humans were to find themselves in such a world, this survival rate is what I would expect of the formidable Tau’ri. Many of you would die. But many more would _live_.”

“I wouldn’t put that past Kayaba,” Janet allowed, a low snarl creeping into the words. “I definitely wouldn’t put it past the NID. But the tech guys swear up, down, and sideways that whatever Kayaba’s running on the servers, it can’t be an online game. Whatever programs are running are too complex. They should have crashed by now, at least once. They haven’t. The IT specialists think it’s got to be some kind of terraforming simulation, but they’re not even sure about that. Hacking the program has been fatal. Sometimes to the victims. Sometimes, to the hackers.” She gave Sam a hard look. “Do not pick up one of those helmets, Major. Putting one of those things on is a _very bad idea_ , no matter how well you think you've hacked the programming.”

“Terraforming?” Jack scanned his team, checking for any sign of a practical joke. “The Goa’uld dump people onto livable planets. Mostly. We’ve got plenty to pick from. Why would Kayaba be running a program like that in people’s helmets?”

Janet spread frustrated hands. “Who knows? One of his last games was about colonizing Mars. Maybe he couldn’t resist. IT says the variables they can get a look at are things like weather patterns, crop estimates, a whole bunch of climate and terrain factors. Their best guess is terraforming.” She sighed. “So we don’t know what’s really going on. It could be the nanites killing the victims directly.”

“Nanites,” Jack echoed. Oh, the day just kept getting _better_.

“We think they’re maintaining the victims’ physical condition.” Janet’s words had the clinical tone of a doctor who’d seen the utterly unknown snatch too many lives from her hands. “We’re fairly certain they’re delivering... whatever Kayaba cooked up with the NID for genetic manipulation. And we know they kill the patients if you take the NervGear off. Something in the helmet, maybe part of the program delivered through the hidden servers, keeps the nanites working. Doing - whatever Kayaba’s nightmare made him do to these people. Take the helmet off, the nanites berserk, and....” Her voice failed her.

“That’s all she wrote,” Jack filled in. “Got it.” He chewed on a knuckle, thinking. “So we’ve definitely got genetic manipulation going on here. But it’s from some kind of human? Not some weird Goa’uld... thing?”

“That’s the problem, sir. We’re not sure.” Sam touched the back of his seat. “Kayaba’s samples came from the NID’s offworld teams. We think that’s where the creatures came from; worlds the NID visited, that we haven’t seen yet.” A mix of controlled anger and even more controlled scientific avarice played over her face. “A lot of them seem to have been Ancient-listed worlds.”

Places the Goa’uld had never visited. Worlds that might be treasure troves of tech, knowledge, or flat-out planet-threatening peril. Or all of the above. Yeah. Right. _Now_ it made sense. “We disappeared these people, because you don’t know if they’re human anymore.”

“Jack,” Daniel started.

Janet held up a hand. Turned in her seat, so she could look the archaeologist in the eye. “He’s right. I hate it, Daniel - but he’s right. The families know the victims are alive, but they think we moved them here to protect them from Kayaba. They don’t know we’re protecting everyone else. We don’t know what Kayaba planned to do to these people. And we’re dealing with alien technology, which means it doesn’t matter _what_ he planned. He may have done something entirely different.” She sighed, as if letting some of the weight of the world slip off her shoulders. “That said, Jaffa have a few odd genes in their makeup,” she glanced at Teal’c, “And I defy anyone to tell me you’re not human.”

A slight smile creased their alien buddy’s face. “Indeed, Janet Fraiser. I would be honored to defend the Tau’ri of Stargate Command as equal to any Jaffa of Chulak.”

“Zing,” Jack said wryly. “So. We’ve got six thousand-odd innocent people with alien tech stuck on their heads that’s doing who knows what to them.” Gee, and wasn’t that familiar? “You think we should call Thor to take a look?”

“General Hammond already did,” Janet grumbled.

He had? And Thor hadn’t mentioned it? Somebody needed to tell the little gray buddy humans weren’t telepathic.

“That’s not exactly what he asked Thor for, Janet,” Carter spoke up. “Thor did take a look at the NervGear as he transported people, but the general was very clear about the ten-minute window. You can’t disconnect the helmets from power for more than ten minutes,” she filled in at Jack’s raised brow. “And Thor’s ship doesn’t exactly run on AC.”

...Now he had Energizer-bunny-meets-UFO commercials running through his head. _Wonder if Thor thinks they’re funny?_

“What he did was major assistance by itself,” Carter went on. “It would have been a nightmare trying to get people here by conventional aircraft. Thor transported patients here as fast as Janet’s people could hook them up to life support. We knew there was some alien tech involved, so the general asked Thor not to do anything beyond surface scans.”

Good to know. Though there was one _tiny_ little detail people were leaving out. “Thor transported six thousand people out of Japan? And nobody noticed?”

“Officially, they were all cremated,” Janet said grimly. “Unofficially, the Japanese government _doesn’t know_ we organized emergency medical flights to move them.”

“Six _thousand_ people?” Jack repeated, incredulous.

“We’re the United States, sir,” Carter said impishly. “Impossible is what we do before breakfast.”

Well, that was going to be a tough act to follow. “But that was last year,” Jack pointed out. “Thor’s probably had plenty of time to analyze his readings, check his equations, recalibrate his interocitors....”

Carter’s dirty look, he almost expected. Danny’s, not so much. “What?” Jack said innocently.

“If you start quoting the Adeptus Mechanicus at me, I’m going to point Sam toward the forums for ideas on making chainswords.”

_Meep_.

Teal’c looked downright _interested_. “I am unfamiliar with this weapon, Daniel Jackson.”

Teal’c with a Commissar’s chainsword. Jack blinked. That image was just so wrong.

“That’s because it’s in a game,” Daniel stated. “A British game.”

Okay, so he’d been stuck with some SAS guys once or twice and they had to do something besides sniping bad guys all day. Was that a crime? “Still. A year. Should we call Thor?”

“If it were just alien technology, I’d say yes in a heartbeat,” Janet said soberly. “But a lot of it isn’t alien. It’s Kayaba’s. Earth-native. And after that mess with the Replicators....”

“Nobody in the universe uses chemical propellants, except us,” Jack concluded. “We do stupid things that work. Got it. So, you want?”

“Like I said, the survivors pretty much fall into three different groups,” Janet said, looking into the distance. “About a third of them... very few modifications. It looks like just enough to maintain them in good shape. Most of the very young children are in that group.”

“Children,” Jack repeated, a sick feeling burning in his gut. “Thought this was supposed to be fifteen and up?”

“Obviously, some people didn’t listen,” Janet said grimly. “So. About two thousand with little to no modification. Then we have roughly thirty-five hundred more in the middle. Definite alterations, denser muscle mass, a bunch of other things, but... not nearly as much as the last tier. Which are about five hundred very, very modified people.” She paused. “The last time we had a bunch of deaths close together was August. In the months since, the fatalities have pretty much fallen into a pattern. One or two at a time. A few from the high-level group, a few low-level, but mostly in the middle-modified group. And never more than six at once.” She took a deep breath. “Yesterday, we lost ten of the more highly modified, all within about a minute.”

“Break in the pattern,” Daniel said quietly.

“And not in a good way,” Jack agreed.

“So... just take a look at it. All of it,” Janet said. “You’re our experts on dealing with the Asgard. See if you think it’d be safe to ask Thor to run some tests. Right now, I’m running out of good ideas.”

“Hey.” Daniel touched the shoulder of her seat. “You’re doing all you can, Janet. Everyone knows that.”

“I know.” Janet’s voice was barely above a whisper. But she squared her shoulders, and nodded toward the front door. “Come on. I’ll show you our sleeping beauties.”  

* * *

_Fourteen_. Janet collapsed into a chair by the nurses’ station, heart numb. _Fourteen more._

“Janet.” Daniel, resting a hand on her shoulder. Just _there,_ after all the chaos of crash carts and hopeless measures; the killing grief of pronouncing, and arranging for the bodies to be moved to the morgue downstairs, for detailed autopsies later. People who’d hit this level of modification just usually _didn’t_ die. This would be a rare chance to explore, and try to figure out just what Kayaba had set in motion.

Cruel comfort. She might even believe it, if she didn’t have the sinking feeling this was only the beginning.  

“Fourteen,” Janet rasped out. “We haven’t had a death rate like that since... God. August. We were hoping that was over.” She braced her face against her hands. “There’s no way Kayaba could have known what he was doing to these people. He’s a _computer programmer_. What if there’s no way to get them out, they’re just going to hit tipping points where their bodies can’t _take_ the nanites anymore, and....”

“Hey.” His fingers found her shoulders, dug in gently. “We’re here, Janet. We’ll think of something.”

Sam was scribbling notes on a partial NervGear schematic, brows knit together in intense concentration. Teal’c was standing not far away, arms crossed, black knit cap above a face carved from stone. And Jack....

The colonel hid it well, but Janet knew he’d looked into a slice of his own personal hell. Trapped in your own body, with no way to run or fight the thing that killed you. Death dealt abstractly, at a distance, by a geek who didn’t have the guts to look his victims in the eye as he killed them. A life wiped out at the push of Kayaba’s button.

_Make a note: tell the General to get Jack out to the firing range. He needs to shoot things_.

“I don’t care if it is an on-world problem,” Jack said grimly. “Thor’s a buddy. We’ll ask.”

“Can you do that, sir?” Red-eyed and shaken, Head Nurse Ellen Jordan looked up from the knot of subdued medical personnel checking off the paperwork that marked the end of human lives. “Can you talk to the Asgard, when it isn’t a threat to the planet?”

Jack rested a too-mild look on her.

The tall brunette reddened, but stood her ground. “I know we’re only cleared to know some details from under the Mountain because it affects SGC patients sent here, but - if there’s anything you can do...?”

“The trick is going to be getting our friends to take a look down here,” Jack said, almost kindly. “With a ten minute limit, transporting those kids into orbit again is _not_ a good idea-”

Another heart monitor shrilled.

_Oh no. Damn it_.

Nurse Jordan almost tripped, getting in front of the main computer monitor. Her face paled, and crumpled. “No. Not him.”

“Ellen?” Janet asked; heart sinking, as the other nurses looked and flinched away. The deaths had hit the Center’s staff like so many jabs straight to the ribs. This one looked like it’d struck the heart.

“It’s Kirigaya,” Ellen managed, reaching out to touch the screen. Shaking hands brought up the file of a young, black-haired Japanese boy, with incredibly black eyes. “He’s the youngest of the high-mods. He turned sixteen last month... his little sister sends us mochi on the holidays, she learned English to write us thank-you notes... I can’t, Janet, I just _can’t_....”

_Just a few months older than Cassie. God_.

The dead were dead. She had to see to the living. Janet drew herself up, and nodded. “I’ll pronounce it.”

Shoulders straight, she headed toward the swinging doors into the nearby open ward. There wasn’t any point in hurrying. They’d tried everything on the last victims. Nothing worked.

SG-1 fell in behind her, quiet and angry.

_Good_ , Janet thought darkly. Maybe they’d take that anger to Thor, and kick the so-called superior races into actually _doing_ something benevolent. Or maybe they’d just figure out where Kayaba was and wring his psychotic little neck.

_At least it’s just one this time. Damn it. Mrs. Kirigaya, we regret to inform you_ -

Beyond the doors, something heavy clattered.

_What the - nobody should be in there!_

Jack shoved ahead of her, hand diving into his fatigues to yank a zat out of hiding. That fast, SG-1 had closed a protective cordon around her, Jack and Teal’c exchanging a _look_ before Jack slammed one door open-

Quiet. Everything looked just as it had before. The same long rows of quiet, still forms on white-sheeted hospital cots; some with toys or a small trunk of clothes sent by still-hopeful families, others with nothing except the steady beep of equipment, all with venomous blue-black NervGear clamped on their heads. The quiet was broken only by the shrill of a lone monitor, a rustle of paper gowns....

And the creak of a cot to her left, as two frail teenagers - one black-haired, one chestnut - clutched each other like the last hold before the abyss.

Bare-headed teenagers. One NervGear was shrouded in the sheet of an empty cot. The girl’s had clattered to the floor, forgotten.

_They’re alive_ , Janet thought, stunned. _Kirigaya pulled off the heart monitor. He’s_ alive!

Thin, and shaking. But definitely alive, heads buried in each other’s neck and shoulder, close enough to feel their partner breathe.

Janet grabbed Jack’s shoulder before he could saunter in to ask questions, shaking her head firmly _no_. “Combat shock,” she breathed, keeping her voice as low as she could.

Jack grimaced, but kept his voice down. “They’ve been in a coma, Doc.”

“I know what I’m seeing.” _I’ve seen it on SG teams a hundred times. That’s ‘oh my god, why are we still alive,’ or I’m a purple unicorn._ “Just wait. Everyone, wait.”

No words. No whimpers. Just thin fingers clutching paper hard enough to tear, and the hitch of breaths from kids trying desperately not to cry.

“You poor kids.” Steeling herself, Janet stepped toward a miracle-

Yards to her right, another cot erupted.

* * *

_“Kayaba, you bastard!”_

Hands shaking, Klein yanked the NervGear off his head, blinking away tears. “Damn you! And the dragon you rode in on, and your fucking God-Mod Stu, you son of a- _ow_....”

_Worst. Head rush. Ever_.

Groaning, the redhead cradled his forehead in his hands as the room seemed to spin around him. If it was a room. White, and steel, and lit by glowing bars of light on the ceiling; like nothing he’d ever seen on Aincrad, casting weird fuzzy glows around heads and hair....

_No cursors. Nobody’s got a cursor, what the_ -

Black hair and chestnut, a few yards away. Pressed together like nothing else existed in the world.

_No way_. Klein rubbed his eyes, crumbling away tear-sand. Asuna and Kirito. When they’d... everyone had seen that bastard Kayaba.... “Am I dreaming?”

“If we’re dreaming,” a dark hand pulled off another NervGear, “then why am I looking at _your_ ugly mug?”

Klein smirked at Agil. Those few sprouts of dark hair definitely didn’t suit him. “You’re just jealous of my-” His fingers felt his chin. His _shaved_ chin. “My manly stubble! Augh!”

That drew laughs, if small and shaky ones, as other familiar faces started sitting up and pulling off the damn helmets.

_Good_ , Klein thought, swinging his feet over to touch the floor. Bare feet. On tiles. Brrr. _We need laughs. A lot of ‘em_.

Though right now, he’d settle for just a touch. Fingers on real skin, to make sure this wasn’t some trick of a nightmare, that Kirito and Asuna were alive and _real_ -

_My HyperSense is tingling_.

Intuition, Outside System Skill - call it what you wanted, Klein had caught too many things stalking him to doubt he had it. He knew when someone was watching with possible intent to maim.

This was that same weird prickling alertness. Multiplied by a hundred.

_We’re out of the game. Now what?_

_“Okay.”_ The words were a little odd, like listening through water. _“Anybody know what they’re saying? Daniel?”_

_“Um.”_ A very thoughtful _um_. _“Huh. Some of the words sound Abydonian, but the grammar’s just wrong, and the way they’re putting the emphasis on syllables is... was that a verb? If it is, why did they end it_ that _way....”_

_“...And we’ve lost Danny to linguistics heaven,”_ the first guy said wryly. _“Carter? What have you got?”_

A woman cleared her throat. _“Outside of, they’re moving around without falling over after two years in a coma, sir?”_

_Sir? As in, military?_ Klein thought.

And she was right. They’d been out cold for _two years_. But... well, his arms looked a little skinny, maybe, but not the skin and bones he’d kind of expected. What the heck?

A deeper, thoughtful voice. _“They do not seem hostile, O’Neill.”_

_“Thanks for small favors... they’re coma patients, Teal’c, what are they going to do? Wobble us to death?”_

_Okay, you I don’t like already_ , Klein decided, making his way to their two game-breakers without glancing toward the doorway. And making sure to wobble a little. If they didn’t understand him, maybe they thought he didn’t understand _them_ , and he’d take any edge he could get. Military around them, all they had were skimpy paper dresses, and whoever had them was _expecting_ people trapped in Kayaba’s game to be hostile-

...Which wasn’t _wrong_ , exactly, Klein had to admit, reddening a little as he thought back on exactly what curses he’d laid on one psychotic computer programmer’s ancestors. If Kayaba suddenly appeared in the middle of this room there was going to be homicide. Straight up, no bones about it, probably dead before the guy had the chance to hit the ground. Which was a lot quicker than the man deserved.

Still. If these guys were worried about what SAO players were going to do to _Kayaba_ , they were definitely not on the side of the angels.

_And we’re not armed. I want my katana!_

But Agil and the rest of Fuurinkazan were here, and even bare-handed, they could probably take on anything short of another Skull Reaper. And he was just a step away from a miracle-

_Um. Better not startle them_.

Frankly, Klein doubted he _could_ startle Kirito. The Black Swordsman had better HyperSense than a cat. Asuna, though - she could be painful. “Asuna? Kirito?” he said hopefully. “We thought you guys were dead....”

Black eyes lifted just enough to meet his, full of dawning hope. “Klein?”

The redhead grinned fiercely. “Hey. Welcome back.” He pumped a fist in the air. “Dibs on hugs!”

“Klein, you - oof!” Asuna sputtered, caught in both their arms as he fell onto the bed. “What are you _doing?_ ”

“What’s it look like? We’re out! And after that mess? You two _need_ a hug!” Still grinning, Klein pulled back enough for Agil to trade wrist grips with them both. Warm. Solid. Alive.

_Day’s looking up already_.

_“Doc....”_

_“Colonel, as they say at NASA, keepen der cotton-picken hands in das pockets.”_ A second woman’s voice, annoyed and quietly worried. _“You’ve dealt with people in shock before. Let_ them _focus on_ us _, or you’ll do them more harm than good_. _Give them a minute to sort themselves out before we start asking questions.”_

Still holding onto Kirito, Asuna tensed.

“Yeah.” Klein kept his tone light. Issin and Kunimittz had pretty good poker faces. The rest of his guild, not so much - but they weren’t looking straight at the doorway. “We’ve got company. _Military_ company.”

“Military?” Kirito repeated, bewildered. “But why?”

“Good question.” Agil frowned. “They’re speaking English.”

_Holy cow. He’s right_. “So what the hell are we speaking?” Klein blurted out.

And damn it, this was a _stupid_ thing to freak out over. His family was proud to be Nikkei; he’d grown up speaking English _and_ Japanese. Why should just adding another language be this scary?

_Because it sounds like us. It sounds like Aincrad. We beat Kayaba, the game’s supposed to be_ over! _What the hell did he do to us?_

“You lagging?” Black eyes met Klein’s, and winked. “We’ll figure it out. Right, Lightning Flash-sama?”

Reluctantly, Asuna smiled. Buried her head against Kirito’s shoulder again, the lucky kid. “Okay. This is what we do....”

* * *

_They’re all waking up_. Janet swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched NervGears come off across the ward. _They’re all alive_.

Meaning they had six thousand people waking up to a world that had moved on without them. Oof.

_About five hundred per ward, thirteen wards.... We’re going to need tents. Trailers. Something. This building could handle six thousand people in a coma. Up and walking? We’d have homicides just from the crowd stress. We need room for them to move around. And counselors. A lot of them_. Janet didn’t try to hide a smile. _Though those two look like they’re going to be just fine_.

Kirigaya had his head on the girl’s right shoulder again, as if he could stay there all day. Janet couldn’t blame him. From what she could see over his shoulder, the girl was cute.

But he sighed, and shifted to rest his cheek against where the open neck of her gown bared goose-bumps, reluctantly opening dark eyes-

Looking directly at her, and SG-1.

_That’s not an accident_.

No confusion in that midnight gaze. No fear. Just a calm, weighing look, that shook Janet to her bones.

_He knew where the door was. Where we were. Where his friends were_.

Somehow, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find out he’d counted every weapon O’Neill was carrying. That look....

_This is a high school student?_

The girl lifted her head, following her friend’s gaze. For a moment, Janet could read her face like a book: _I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, where is this place?_

Then both teenagers huddled with the wild-haired redhead and the massive black man again, obviously intent on hashing something out fast.

“They’re plotting,” Jack sing-songed at her.

“With people they’ve never seen before?” Janet said skeptically. “Everyone in the game had computer avatars. Even if they had a chance to interact before Kayaba changed all the rules, they can’t have recognized each other that fast....”

Except Jack was right. People didn’t huddle in _us against the world_ with strangers. Which meant they weren’t strangers to each other. How?

“Uh-huh,” the colonel said dryly. “So how come _those_ guys,” he nodded toward about five young men who’d casually put themselves between the foursome and the rest of the room, “are acting like your staff when you and Carter plan a raid on Danny’s coffee- where the hell did he go?”

“Captain Fraiser!” Nurse Jordan skidded to a stop in the doorway behind them. “We’re getting reports that- _oh_....”

“We may have good news,” Janet admitted, still looking for black hair. Where the heck had Kirigaya gone? “At least, no one’s keeled over yet, so-”

Daniel cleared his throat. “Janet? She’s coming for us.”

The chestnut-haired girl had solved any modesty problems by whirling up her sheet over her shoulders like a white cloak. Now she hit the floor at a fast march. Janet could almost hear imaginary heels clicking, as the jubilant chaos parted before a seventeen-year-old Japanese schoolgirl stalking like Jack on a mission, heaven help anyone who got in her way.

_Daniel’s right. She’s headed for us_.

The girl stopped at what Janet had come to think of as good snarking distance, and swept them with another look. “I am Asuna, Vice-Commander of the Knights of the Blood Oath. Who are you, and where are we?”

English. Lightly accented, with what Janet wasn’t sure, but definitely English.

_And she said_ we. _Did those guys toss a teenage girl out as a figurehead? Idiots_.

Except Asuna’s hard look didn’t belong on someone randomly shoved into the fray. This girl wanted answers.

“Dr. Janet Fraiser,” Janet answered, holding up a hand to hopefully keep Ellen or anyone else from sticking their two cents in. Teenager or not, anyone giving off that much angry-Jack-vibe needed to be treated with respect. It made exams much easier in the long run. “This is the Project Bluebook Rehabilitation Center. Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. We moved you all here once it became evident there would be complications in your recovery.” There. Blunt, to the point, and without too many details yet.

_But everything I said is true. If she’s any good at reading people, that should buy us some goodwill_.

“Bluebook?” the black man muttered, with a definite American accent. “Colorado Springs? We were in Japan.”

“Atsugi,” the redhead agreed, eyes a little wide as he twisted the laminated medical ID bracelet on his right wrist. “ _K’so_ , you’d have to fly us here, and if the NervGear was offline for ten minutes....”

_They knew about the deadline. Oh, fun_. “That’s why you’re on an Air Force base,” Janet said firmly. “We had the equipment. We’re very glad to see you awake-”

“What kind of complications?” Asuna cut her off.

“Complicated ones,” Jack said dryly.

_Foot_ , Janet thought sourly. _Step on_.

Missed. Damn it.

Asuna gave him a searching glance, of what Janet recognized as the _I know you are stalling me_ variety. Ouch. “We had forty-eight people in the last raid.” Her knuckles turned white on the edge of her sheet. “We... lost fourteen. Are they-?”

_Fourteen_. Janet couldn’t help but flinch. For Jack, that would have been answer enough. _But how did she-?_

Tears welled up in brown eyes. “They came so _close_.”

_You poor kid_. “I’m sorry,” Janet said softly, setting aside _how_ for when the situation was a little less explosive. “You knew them?” _Fourteen out of forty-eight, what the heck is a raid - oh god. She just lost a third of her friends. Damn it, kid, go ahead and cry_.

Asuna swallowed, and jerked her head in a too-familiar nod.

_“I had to know that, and you had to tell me.” That’s not a friend. That’s... it can’t be what it looks like. She’s too young to be commanding anyone!_

“Most of the clearers know each other,” Asuna said, voice almost steady. She glanced at the redhead, and nodded.

He gave Asuna a sympathetic smile, then stuck fingers in his mouth for a chaos-piercing whistle. “ _Oi! Min’na-san!_ Find your party members, let’s get a headcount! Then check in with your guild. Make sure nobody’s still stuck.” He nodded toward the black man. “Merchants on Agil. Knights, your vice-commander’s deputized me for right now. Fuurinkazan... eh, what’m I saying, can’t lose you guys if I tried, we have _got_ to get a pizza later-”

That drew grins from the five young men who’d held the perimeter. Interesting. _Atsugi?_ Janet wondered. _Does he mean Japan, or our base there? I think there were a couple Marines who got caught in the game... oh. I think we just found them_.

Which made things even more bewildering, if they had. What was a Marine doing letting a girl take the lead?

“Everybody who wasn’t in the raid....” The redhead shrugged. “Eh, stuff happened, we’ll go over the details later.” He bounced a little in place. “And in case anybody missed that-”

“Japanese,” Daniel blurted out, as the redhead broke into a swift staccato of words. “That’s why it sounded so weird! The vocabulary’s Abydonian, I think... but the grammar’s _Japanese_.” He hesitated. “Sort of?”

“Stuff happened?” Sam exclaimed. “Fourteen people are dead. How can you say that?”

“We knew the raid was going to be dangerous. Thirty-eight _hundred_ people have died, ma’am.” Agil crossed his arms with a grim finality. “It’s been a long two years.”

Asuna took a step forward, focused on their archaeologist. “What is Abydonian?”

“Better question,” Jack put in, relaxed as if he dealt with thousands of confused people every day. “Where’d your friend Kirigaya go?”

Blank looks. “Who?” the redhead asked, bewildered.

Brown eyes cleared. “He went to check on the mid-level players,” Asuna said, straightening. “He knows them better than most of the clearers.”

“Wha- Kirito?” The redhead glanced between Asuna and Agil. “His name’s Kirigaya? Huh!”

“You didn’t know?” Daniel frowned.

“Screen names,” the redhead shrugged. “I’m Klein.” He grinned at Asuna with a twinkle that had teasing older brother all over it. “So when did you two trade Otherworld names?”

Asuna’s cheeks reddened.

“ _Otherworld_ names?” Daniel pounced. “You mean the real world?”

“As in, where you can _really_ get in trouble wandering around loose in secure areas,” Jack said pointedly. “Let’s put out an APB, Doc.” He gave the assembled patients a skeptical look. “What the heck were you thinking?”

“What were _we_ thinking?” Agil gave the colonel just as skeptical a look back. “Kirito’s a _solo_.”

* * *

Even in the real world, bare feet still seemed to give you a Stealth bonus.

Kirito ducked into a stairwell, padding up and around a landing corner that would be behind the door if it opened. Suguha’s old gym bag was a featherweight on his shoulder, promise and uncertainty both wrapped in the faintest scent of bamboo and sweat.

_I remember when this bag was new. It seems like yesterday_.

Yesterday, and a lifetime away. From a time when he wasn’t looking for a threat cursor over every head. When he hadn’t expected every corner to reveal a new monster. When he didn’t think of clothes as a player purchase or a monster drop. And he was grateful to see clothes in Suguha’s bag, he really was; a set of black and gray sweats with a note in his mother’s handwriting that she hoped they had the right size....

_But how do I unequip a hospital gown?_

Head, meet palm. Repeat. _Ow_.

_This is going to take more than a few menu clicks_.

Which meant trying to get dressed in a stairwell was not the brightest idea he’d ever had. But right now he was alone, and this was as good a place as any to see if there was anything in Suguha’s bag besides clothes.

_It’s not quest loot_ , Kirito reminded himself wryly, pushing past dark clothing to rubber-band-bound bundles of letters and a small coin-bag that jingled like it had enough yen for an emergency phone call. He’d grabbed the gym bag on instinct; if items dropped for you, you took them and sorted out if you could actually use them later. Because _later_ often had to come after running a gauntlet of lizardmen, dire wolf packs, or orange-player bandits-  

_Where are the orange players?_

Oh, now that was an unsettling thought-

Fingers met round, heavy metal. Small. Almost familiar.

Kirito took out a polished medal, and felt his eyes sting. Kirigaya Suguha. Kendo. National quarter-finalist.

_I should have been there_.

Suguha had pushed herself to excel at kendo, so he could hide from the world in programs and electrons. So he could hide from the fact that he didn’t know what to _do_ , knowing the people he called mother, father, and sister were actually aunt, uncle, and cousin....

One file on the internet. One innocent bit of hacking. And everything solid in his life had turned to sand.

_Grandfather said he was training us to follow in our father’s footsteps. But - Minnetaka_ isn’t _my father_ -

Kirito grimaced, and shook the memories away, tucking the medal into one of the bag’s side pocket. This was why you didn’t think about the Otherworld in Aincrad. It could get you killed.

_I need someplace to get changed_ , Kirito decided, keeping his head below the window to listen at the stairwell door. He could hear chaos, as people cheered about logging out and nurses rushed to try to contain the bedlam. But right now, there were no footsteps near where he was. _I think I passed a bathroom on the last floor. If the floorplan is the same on this level..._ that _way_.

He slipped through the door, gauging the gaits and gazes of people in blue scrubs to fade through the corridor unnoticed. A few quick steps through the door he sought, and he ducked behind a stall and then a surprising curtain, as a disheveled man swore and dashed out into the hall, still dripping.

_I have to bring Asuna up here_ , Kirito thought, almost grinning as he wiped wet drops off his face. _They have a shower!_

Whoof. Right now, he wished he could dive under hot water himself. He didn’t feel really dirty, but two years under a helmet had left his hair - well. Yuck.

_I don’t think I have time to try and figure out a shower that doesn’t have a touch menu_.

But the steamy air was nice, and the shower curtain had to be at least +10 concealment against passing encounters-

_Not in Aincrad. Not. In. Aincrad_.

The gown came off with some fumbling and a few tears. He glared at the laminated bar-code bracelet on his right forearm, but left it alone. It might be important. Sweatpants-

Well. It was a good thing there was a ledge to sit on by the shower. That was tricky.

The t-shirt and sweatshirt went on a lot easier, though they were much more loose than he thought his mother would be happy with. But they were clothes, and they were gray and black, and that was _so_ much better than helpless white paper.

Straps back over his shoulder, he stepped down from the shower niche into the main bathroom-

_Dark shadow in the fog_.

Hands shot up to parry and block, as he faced the-

_Mirror. Augh_.

Kirito heaved a sigh, and wiped fading mist from polished glass. There just _weren’t_ that many mirrors in Aincrad....

_Oh_.

Not his avatar. This was a thin, pale teenager in gray and black. A _real_ face, with real limp black hair, and all the little imperfections of skin and veins that never made it into the rendering.

_I’m not Kirito anymore. I’m Kirigaya Kazuto. Again_.

Then why did it feel like typing in someone else’s screen name?

He touched damp glass, trying to peer through it for answers. That was definitely _his_ face. He’d seen it before, if only rendered-

_That’s it. I’ve only seen it rendered. The last time I saw myself as Kazuto... I was fourteen_.

And Kazuto didn’t have long hair. He didn’t have lines of hard muscle from years of fighting monsters and bosses, alone or - too damn rarely, Klein would say - beside people who’d grit their teeth and work with a beater to _win_. Kazuto’s eyes didn’t cut even from reflections in glass, always searching for what might be lurking a breath away.

Kazuto was like the sweatshirt. He could wear it, but it didn’t _fit_. Not anymore.

He took a breath, and rolled his shoulders, consciously loosening tense muscles. Whoever _he_ was or wasn’t, Kazuto didn’t have friends who’d stuck with him despite his best efforts to stay alone. Friends who needed _Kirito_ right now.

Friends he had to find. Somehow.

Almost without thinking, he tried to draw open a menu. Right there should have been his friends’ links, with Argo, Klein, and Asuna leading the list. But - nothing. Just empty air.

“Might as well wish for a Scan,” Kirito muttered. “If we’re all in this building, it would be easy....”

In Aincrad. Right.

Damn, but he was going to miss that ability. Scan was hard to level up, and not nearly as useful for a group player as a solo, so most people didn’t put too much into it. Which was a shame, because past a certain level, you didn’t need words to activate it. The system recognized your focused attention. Scanning a building for enemies or tracking one player through a entire town, all Kirito had needed to do was concentrate, and... reach....

The world flared, razor-sharp and _green_.

His fingerprints on the glass. His bare footprints on the floor, leading around and down levels back to blazing warmth that separated into _Asuna, Klein, Agil, Fuurinkazan_....

Warm light had to be a player. Cooler spots, fewer and moving with purpose - something in that matched with recent shoeprints on the floor, left by the medic who’d dashed out. A roar of details, pressing on him from every side. So _many_ people-

_Pull back. One area at a time. Grid-search, you’ve done this before, focus!_

Try to count a swarm of enemies individually, you’d get overwhelmed before you could make sense of it all. But if you pulled your Scan back to one bunch, counted, estimated from there....

_Six thousand people. We could all be here!_

On the one hand, good; the sooner they could get organized, the sooner they could _deal_ with Kayaba. If he wasn’t already dead. On the other hand - Klein was sure these people were military. _Why?_

_Find the midlevel and low-level_ , Kirito reminded himself, reaching out once more. _Lisbeth, Silica... Sasha and the children_....

There, and there, and _there_. Yes!

_The low-levels are higher up? What kind of sense does that make?_

He pulled back again, focusing on the area closer to him. Eventually someone else was going to come into this bathroom, and he’d rather have some warning-

Familiar warmth, a hall or two away. With a sense of mouse-sneakiness, and a cream-fed-cat’s level of smug.

_Argo!_

_?!?_

It... wasn’t _quite_ like that itch you got when the system dropped a message in your box. More a tangle of feelings that he somehow knew weren’t his. Surprise, as if someone had tapped on Argo’s shoulder. Wariness, matched with insatiable curiosity.

_Find a shadow, I’ll find you_.... Damn. If he wasn’t getting words from her, she probably wasn’t getting them from him.

But at least Argo was out there. He could _find_ her.

_But how? What’s going on, how can I_ -

Green in the mirror, where it had mostly faded from the rest of his vision. Emerald and gold shimmering in black eyes; the telltale gleam that meant Night Vision, Tracking, or just general _Scan_.

Kirito gripped the edge of the sink, feeling as if he’d taken a kobold’s club to the ribs. _We’re out of Aincrad. We_ logged out. _There’s no menus... the details... I told Silica, power in Aincrad was just an illusion. This is the real world!_

The real world. With real porcelain and steel shivering under his grip, creaking in a way that - _in the game_ \- was a warning that this wasn’t an Immortal Object, and even as a DEX-specced DPS instead of STR, 96th level meant enhanced strength, and an item’s Durability was about to-

_Crack_.

Kirito staggered back, grit powdering shaking hands. Took a deep breath, and pushed the white noise of fear back, locking it down under the same refusal to panic that had kept him alive in the middle of boss raids gone horribly wrong. _Argo needs to know. Asuna, Klein, Agil - everyone needs to know. Fast_.

They’d escaped Aincrad. But somehow....

_Sword Art Online came with us_.


	2. Scouting, and Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Players: Sneaking, scouting, finding what NPCs have information... it's not that far off a new level.
> 
> For the SGC: Kayaba did _what?_
> 
> (They don't know the half of it....)

“Sir?” Leafing through one of the original Sword Art Online Japanese manuals, Gunnery Sergeant Northland gave Hammond a focused look. “Respectfully request permission to hunt Akihiko Kayaba down and use him as a Ranger piñata.”

“Denied, Gunny,” General Hammond said regretfully, finger on the mouse as the video paused. Children attacking a lethal, nodachi-armed monster... he needed a moment to catch his breath. And let the steam shoot out of his ears. Angry generals made poor decisions. And there had been more than enough bad judgment calls in this mess already. “Why a _Ranger_ piñata, Sergeant Northland?”

Besides his normal brown crewcut and once-broken nose, the Marine standing on the other side of Hammond’s desk currently sported five stitches above his eyebrow from something with claws. Those stitches were the reason Northland was temporarily attached to secretarial duties, instead of out in the field. Weird octopus-cat-hybrid sort of thing or not, any marine with his training and skills should have ducked. Northland hadn’t.

Granted, he’d been distracted by the rest of the alien’s... pride, or school, or whatever you wanted to call it; last Hammond had heard, base scuttlebutt was pulling for “wriggle”. Even so. Janet had diagnosed stress. Northland had claimed not to know the meaning of the word. The good doctor had then upped the ante and challenged the sergeant to try manning the general’s phone lines and word processor for three weeks.

So far, Northland had fought the paperwork to a draw. So far.

As for bringing up a competing military service, the sergeant looked completely unrepentant. “With all due respect to our fellow officers and enlisted in the service, sir - Kayaba likes subtle. He deserves to run into guys who think _subtle_ means _don’t use the flamethrowers this time_.”

“Suggestion noted, Sergeant,” Hammond said wryly. “And privately, Gunny? It’s much appreciated.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sergeant Northland flipped a few more pages. “If this had been for real, sir? Would have been a hell of a game. As it turned out... talk about rotten luck. Who could have seen that one coming?”

“It’s our job to try.”

“Yes, sir.” The sergeant traced a few of the kanji scribbled in the margins. “I thought we got the translations back from the Linguistics Department upstairs a few weeks back, sir?”

“No, I haven’t taken up Japanese in my spare time,” Hammond answered the unspoken question, amused. “I keep that one to remind me what’s at stake. It belongs to one of the surviving beta testers. His mother sent it to us, along with a significant amount of supporting documentation gleaned from... let’s just say, it’s possible Argus never intended some of those documents to see the light of day. And I wish we could hire that woman.” He firmly sat on the desire to curse out some of the Japanese officials responsible for blocking any and all attempts to make Midori Kirigaya an offer. By their lights, the SGC had _kidnapped_ several thousand Japanese citizens, they wanted their people _back_ , and anything they could do to make one General Hammond’s job harder was icing on the cake.

It’d taken him several unpleasant weeks and a truckload of bureaucratic bothering-by-the-book even to find out what the problem was. So far as he’d known, the SAO Incident Taskforce had been advised, the Japanese government had given them the green light, and Thor had transported everyone on schedule. What was the problem?

_Not every translator is Dr. Jackson. Unfortunately_.

Worse, among the twenty-odd languages Daniel did speak, Japanese wasn’t one of them. The SGC’s offer to move the patients for better care had, apparently, gone through. The reply that had come back - he’d tracked down the original text and three separate translators to be sure - had been translated as, _That could be a little difficult_.

What it _meant_ was, _No_.

Or more frankly, _Hell no, no way, get out of here, thank you so much for understanding_.

But by the time he’d figured that out... well. What was he supposed to do, call the Supreme Commander of the Asgard fleets and say oops, please put them back? They’d already had a few deaths from moving the SAO victims once. How could he risk more lives?

Not to mention, Thor was the Supreme Commander of fleets currently in a slugging match against the System Lords and the Replicators. The odds of the Asgard being able to divert another ship to Earth for anything less than life-threatening emergencies were vanishingly low.

There were reasons for the antacids in his desk.

“Wonder if the beta’s one of the guys Ryoutarou gamed with,” Northland muttered. Glanced up, suddenly self-conscious. “Ah, that’d be Corporal Tsuboi, sir....”

“I know who we’ve had transferred there, Gunny.” Hammond rested his hands on his desk. “Though this is the first I’ve heard of our affected people knowing the civilian victims.”

“Guess it’s not the kind of thing that gets put in a record,” Northland admitted. “The corporal’s bilingual, and a lot of online gamers outside America know some English anyway. Word I got from Atsugi was, just before SAO went boom, Tsuboi was running a guild in another game with Marines and off-base civilians in it. People said he planned to do that again, but... who knows.”

Hammond raised curious brows.

“I try to get over there once a week to talk to him.” Northland shrugged, almost sheepish. “Mrs. Mills visits the same ward to see her husband. I think it helps her to see we don’t forget our people.” His grin was a little rueful. “Her cafe’s one of the best.”

“Good job.” Hammond frowned at the monitor. Shook his head, and sighed. It might look like paranoia to the Pentagon, but based on some of the things that had happened under the Mountain.... “Now that we’re fairly sure nothing’s going to crawl out of the computer and eat my brain, Gunny, you’d better get back to the phone.”

“Yes, sir.” The sergeant headed for the door to his secretarial desk. Paused. “Though if it ends up being any of our business afterwards, sir? Have to admit I’m kind of curious how it comes out.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Gunny,” Hammond promised. Watched the door shut behind Northland, and reluctantly grinned. No one stayed in the SGC who couldn’t follow orders. But soldiers who didn’t have a streak of curiosity to go with their discipline, who couldn’t balance the rational fear of guarding the universe’s doorstep with a sense of wonder about what might be out there....

Well, the incurious ones did their duty. But Hammond tried to transfer them out as soon as reasonably possible. He’d had enough sleepless nights himself, particularly in the wake of the Touched virus and Nirrti’s nanite bomb in Cassandra Fraiser. Potentially wiping out the planet was not how he wanted his tour to end.

Though he was fairly certain Kayaba hadn’t intended to destroy Earth. Fairly certain. Most of the time.

Then again, Major Carter hadn’t intended to put the entire Mountain on alert by starting a naquadah reactor. Sometimes, things just happened.

Kayaba hadn’t just happened. This had been calculated, deliberate, and far more deeply planned than Hammond had ever expected.

The hell of it was, there was a small part of a general’s soul - a _very_ small part - that couldn’t blame Kayaba for taking drastic action. The use and defense of the Stargate was crucial to the entire planet. Yet for the foreseeable future, the Stargate was in American control, with some limited use by the permanent members of the UN Security Council. Five nations. Including China.

China and Japan had a very old, very bloody history. Just ask Korea.

If Kayaba had done what Hammond increasingly suspected he had, the SGC was now going to have to include Japan. Like it or not. China was definitely going to be on the _not_ side of the ledger. And when China wasn’t happy, the Security Council wasn’t happy, meaning the Pentagon wasn’t happy....

_Or in other words, business as usual_ , Hammond thought wryly. _But it might get Japan talking to us again. Given their citizens are awake - that would definitely help_. He nodded. _So let’s see exactly what the President has to worry about_ -

Northland buzzed him. “Sir?” came over the intercom. “Some gentlemen from the NID are upstairs at Security. Coming down for their biweekly visit, they say.”

“They’re early,” Hammond observed. Coincidence? He doubted it. “Let me know when they reach this floor, Gunny.”

In the meantime, he had a madman’s video to watch.

A few minutes later, Northland gave him a discreet buzz. Hammond sighed, and switched the screensaver on to cover a minimized video screen. The Kirigaya manual was already tucked into his desk; no need to give his visitors any clue what had caught his interest, if by some incredible stroke of fate they were somehow clueless about today’s events.

“Major Reus,” Hammond said politely to the first dark-haired airman to walk through his door. There’d be time enough to snarl later. “Captain Carroll. I believe our meeting was scheduled for this coming Friday.” So he could make sure his granddaughters were watched all weekend, if he felt he had to. “What’s the occasion?”

Credit to the major, he didn’t mince words. “The Rehab Center’s death rate has spiked again.”

“I’m aware,” Hammond said levelly. Officially, most of the NID was a perfectly legitimate government watchdog group. Officially, they had the right to access certain levels of secure documents and data, to determine if black operations such as the SGC were going over the line. Officially.

The major barreled on. “Obviously, long-term coma care isn’t Stargate Command’s area of expertise-”

“As far as all our medical experts can determine, Major, it’s not the comas that are killing them,” Hammond cut across his words. “And we are Earth’s experts in nanite effects. Unless the NID has access to a new researcher in the field?” He leaned forward, inviting confessions.

The major had a good poker face. The captain - fidgeted. Just a hair.

_Interesting_.

“Sir, if I may be blunt?” Major Reus gave him a sober look. “It’s been a year. These people had families. We can’t keep telling them there’s no progress.”

“I completely agree, Major,” Hammond nodded. “Which is why my best people are currently examining the Bluebook patients and technology very, very carefully.” He shrugged. “If Earth’s knowledge and technology fail us, then we have to consider other options. Fortunately, due to SG-1’s work with the Asgard against the Replicators, we still _have_ other options.”

There. Threat and counter-threat. And they were all being so civilized about it.

“The Asgard?” The major looked startled. Then thoughtful. Which was not at all the reaction Hammond would have expected from anyone even remotely associated with the NID’s offworld-tech theft ring.

_Why thoughtful?_

“Wouldn’t the Asgard be overkill, sir?” Captain Carroll put in. “It is a problem from this planet.”

“A problem made lethal by offworld technology,” Hammond said, matter-of-fact. “But that’s a valid point, Captain. The Asgard may have had several more centuries working with Ancient technology than we have, but that doesn’t mean their solutions are safe. There’s a small matter of alien physiologies to account for. Which is why SG-1 is investigating the technology very carefully.”

“If there were a better expert in FullDive technology....”

Hammond let the major trail off, a look of polite interest firmly fixed on his face. “If one could be found, Major, I’d be very interested in hearing about it. Still, if such an expert did turn up, I suspect our approach would be the same. It’s far safer to bring the experts to the victims than the other way around.”

Which, come to think of it, might be exactly what the NID was hoping for. If an Asgard was on Earth, even for a short window of time - some people might find that _very_ interesting.

_If we’re lucky, Thor won’t have to take that risk_.

Hammond didn’t believe in luck. But sometimes, events did fall in the SGC’s favor.

_Let this be one of those times_. “Now, are there any other matters the NID would like to discuss today?”

Of course there were. Each trivial in and of themselves, but collectively enough to drive a saint to drink.

The hell of it was, at least half of them were legitimate concerns. The United States couldn’t keep pouring money into a hole in the ground for no results. _We haven’t been attacked by aliens this week, yet_ , wasn’t something you could offer as a reason on the Senate floor. And there were small things that had come out of the program. Antibiotics and antivirals. Insights into alloys and structural engineering from spaceships built on a truly colossal scale. Even FullDive, which RETCO was reengineering from Kayaba’s NervGear into the safer if less immersive AmuSphere.

So. There went more precious time.

_But time the NID is distracted, is time SG-1 can use to handle the problem_ , Hammond reminded himself, standing to stretch out his back once they were gone. _Damn desk job_....

He switched off the screensaver, staring at the minimized video screen that held the last moments of a dying demon.

_I need to get this to SG-1_.

* * *

_They’re supposed to be in prison_ , Silica thought, standing her ground in front of a wide-eyed blond doctor cradling a broken arm. When all she really wanted to do was dive back into her bed and sob. Pina was gone. Pina was _gone_ , and there weren’t any revival items in the Otherworld....

But the doctor was real, and the three from Titan’s Hand were real, and she wasn’t level 45 anymore, she could stop them!

Even if the part of her wailing for Pina said she shouldn’t have to. They were orange players, they should all be in the Black Iron Castle!

_Too bad no one told the Otherworld that_.

“What are you going to do, little prey?” Rosalia’s smile was just as pretty and awful as Silica remembered. “No weapons. No healing items. No... pretty little pet.”

She wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of Rosalia. She _wasn’t_. “You’re not armed either, Rosalia!”

“Oh? You think a little bouncing and tumbling can save you here?” Perfect lips. Perfect white teeth, bright against a flow of crimson hair. “Let me tell you something about reality, little one. A woman against a girl isn’t a fight. It isn’t even an annoyance.”

Rosalia’s hand swept out. Silica could see it coming, she knew she had to dodge. But - you didn’t hit another green player, you just didn’t-!

“Rosalia.”

_Kirito-san!_

Hope broke the lock on her muscles, let her duck and spin under Rosalia’s slap. The redhead flinched, twisting so she could see both Silica and the doorway.

Black hair, even if it was too long. Black clothes, though there was no flowing coat. And no sword.

But the look in his eyes was the same as that day at the bridge. Angry. Annoyed. And deadly determined.

_The Black Swordsman_.

Silica took a breath, and smiled. “It’s going to be all right now, Blond-isha,” she said to the startled doctor. “Kirito-san’s here.”

_“Miss, I wish I knew what the heck you were saying. Right now, it looks like people are gonna get hurt. Besides me.”_ He winced, cradling his arm to keep it from jarring, obviously trying to figure out who was going to move next.

Which was silly. Couldn’t he see what was going to happen? “I said,” Silica matched her words to his with an effort, _“It’s all right. Kirito-san can take them.”_

_“You speak English?”_ He gaped at her, then shook his head. _“No, no, we don’t want anybody taking anybody! You gotta calm down, relax, everybody just... oh boy.”_

English? That didn’t make sense. She’d started learning English in school before the game, sure. But she didn’t speak it.... Now what was Rosalia going to try?

Rosalia shifted her stance, flipping back hair with an air of disdain. “Your little fan thinks you can pull off a miracle. Get a clue, Kirito- _kun_. This is the real world. You’re not level 78 anymore.”

“You’re right.”

There was a blur of black, red hair snapping back, and the Titan’s Hand leader was falling-

The redhead hit the floor hard. Kirito was already there, blade-hand poised a ready distance from her throat.

“-I haven’t been _level 78_ for a long time.”

Fear flickered in Rosalia’s eyes. Silica was guiltily glad to see it. Pina... it hurt so much.

_“Oh, damn it,”_ the doctor breathed. _“Got to call security-”_

_“No!”_ Silica grabbed his good arm. _“Kirito’s a good guy! It’s going to be okay. You’ll see!”_

“Don’t move.”

Kirito hadn’t even looked at the other orange players. They froze anyway.

“Look around. Look out the window at the _snow_. We’re not in Japan anymore.” Kirito’s words were quiet, but they seemed to ring through the whole ward. “Fuurinkazan’s guild leader thinks we’re on a military base. Think about that. We’re on an American military base, with people who seem to have no idea what Kayaba did to us. _All_ of us.”

Eeep. Silica could see the sudden thoughtful look on Rosalia’s face, even as Kirito calmly tore a sheet into strips and lifted her to tie her hands behind her back.

_“Oh, now,_ wait _a minute-”_ Blond-isha started.

_“You want people not fighting?”_ Silica poked him. _“Shh!”_

“I know some of you may regret what you’ve done. Some of you might wish you could take it back, and never go orange.” Now Kirito did look around the ward, black eyes lingering here and there, as one or two players flinched away. “You have two choices. Surrender to the Aincrad Liberation Force, and see what happens to all of us. Or....” He flowed to his feet, smooth as glass. “We finish this. Right here. Right now. I was in the crusade that took down Laughing Coffin. We beat the game. _We won_. I am not losing anyone else to a PK!”

Fists lowered. Eyes glanced away. A few people sat back down on the cots, dejected. Most looked relieved. And others-

Silica watched a brunette player bury her face in her hands, wailing as if her heart would break.

_“What’s going on?”_ Blond-isha tugged at her hand. _“What’d he tell them?”_

Um. That was complicated. _“Kirito-san told them we’re out of the game,”_ Silica said. _“That we shouldn’t fight anymore, even if some people made bad choices in Aincrad.”_ She’d heard what Laughing Coffin had done to some people. Trapping them, forcing them to kill each other... it was awful. _“Everyone lost someone. It hurts.”_

_“Wait, wait, wait - you knew you were losing people?”_ Alarm flashed on his face, followed by a scowl that reminded Silica of Agil in a grumpy mood. _“Guys in charge said you were all in a coma... um. Hi. Not used to patients I have to introduce myself to. I’m a vet, not a doc. Rob Flint. You?”_

“Silica,” she said, distracted. Snow? Not in Japan? How? “Kirito-san - what happened? People were saying the Knights thought they’d found the 75th boss, but there wasn’t anything new in the paper, or the guidebooks. That means something _really bad_ happened. But the clearers were going after it anyway....”

Huh. Why was Kirito a little red? And not looking anywhere near her?

_Why am I so chilly?_

Um. Bare arms. White wrapped around her, but not much, and it was thin and papery and - oh no, she needed gear, she needed gear _now_ , but menus wouldn’t work and this was really the real world and what did she do now _oh_ -

She hadn’t wrapped up in a sheet to keep the boogieman away in _years_. Not that Kirito was anything like a boogieman, he was really nice, and strong, and....

Okay. Deep breaths. She could look at the room. And Kirito. Really. “Did you...?”

Kirito had been studying another corner of the room like he expected an invisible mob to creep down the wall. Now he glanced her way, still a little pink. “I didn’t.”

_“I don’t believe this. You, little lady, are_ way _too young to - ah, hell, at least he did the decent thing,”_ Flint-isha muttered. _“Crush alert, oy, who do I even talk to about this....”_

Silica lifted her chin; determined, even if her cheeks still felt too hot. “So what happened?”

“Um.” Kirito glanced around at attentive faces, uncertain. “It was... really bad....”

“Your attention, everyone.” A young woman’s voice over the intercom. “This is Asuna, Vice-Commander of the Knights of the Blood Oath. I know everyone’s confused. The last we all knew, the front lines were on the 75th floor. We defeated that boss. It cost us several lives. Then... things got complicated.” A pause, as if Asuna were bracing herself. “We discovered a way to trigger the final boss early.” Another pause. “Find your parties, your guilds, and stay with people you trust. We need to take some time to get back on our feet.” A breath. “And then, we need to find Kayaba.”

* * *

“That should help.” Asuna took one more longing look at the mike in her hand, then handed the headset back to the head nurse. “Thank you, Nurse Jordan. I hope everyone calms down soon.”

The dark-haired nurse gave her a preoccupied smile, glancing down at her ID bracelet. “I hope so, too, Miss Yuuki. We weren’t expecting this.” She glanced toward Dr. Fraiser, with just a flicker of a look toward the gray-haired Colonel O’Neill.

_I know he outranks both of us, but try not to let him do anything that’ll get people hurt_ , Asuna translated that glance. _Guild politics. Wonderful_.

But she let the doctors check everyone’s ID against their medical files, then followed the colonel’s party into the small lounge and medical library a few doors from the nurses’ station, Klein and Agil close behind. Privacy, chairs, a water-cooler; a few computers hooked up so nurses could check diagnoses or email.

_We can work with this_ , Asuna decided. She wasn’t sure of all the Knights she’d left behind, but Nijikaze did leatherwork as well as clearing, and Agil had given her a thumbs-up for gathering the merchants before they left. And Fuurinkazan would help keep everyone focused on taking care of each other.

_I still don’t like us being away from the others, but... maybe we can find out information that will help all of us_. Asuna braced herself, as the dark man - Teal’c, she thought O’Neill had called him - closed the door. “Dr. Fraiser. You say we’re in Colorado. Why? Why move us all, when it was so dangerous? Why not just leave us in the hospitals where we were?”

The redheaded doctor frowned. “You knew you were in hospitals?”

“Kayaba dumped a message into the system later,” Klein grumbled. “Fifteen-minute warning, get to a safe zone, he was giving people a window to move us. Then people just - passed out. It was scary.”

“Some kind of stasis effect activated with it,” Agil added. “Like a safe zone. I saw it around people who took longer to wake up. Kept monsters from killing you while you were offline. Once you woke up, though.... At least most people who weren’t in a town found a spot clear of mobs.” He grinned. “I hear Kirito rode it out in a tree.”

“He would,” Klein agreed. “So what, you moved us again? There wasn’t any warning-” The Fuurinkazan guild leader cut himself off, glaring at O’Neill. “A year ago. Damn. Had to be then. People were lagging in the middle of _boss fights_. You son of a... you ever tried stomping giant spiders when half your party’s frozen? You damn near killed us!”

Asuna saw Agil grimace, and shuddered herself. The Arcane Arachnid would have been a tough enough fight on its own. When people had started lagging - gods.

“Spiders,” O’Neill started to say.

_Oh, you don’t get off that easy_ , Asuna growled to herself. She’d already faced losing Kirito once today. Remembering that, when she’d almost lost him _again_....

Mostly what she remembered was a blur of trying to be everywhere at once, sending every tank she could contact to shield the lagging players, desperately praying the tanks would stay with them. Part of that blur had been the blazing glows of a dozen Skills going off like firecrackers; the DPS had flung every trick they had at the boss, from the nearly mundane to jump-on-dragon’s-back reckless. As long as they were in the game, where you could physically drag someone out of the line of fire, you had a chance. You could _rescue_ a wounded player. Someone who was _lagging_....

She could still feel the ice-cold jolt of fear, looking across the web-strewn room and seeing black eyes widen. With no _reason_ , that was what had struck her; there was nothing in view that should have put that pure panic on his face-

Fear had hardened into crystalline resolve, and the Black Swordsman _moved_.

_Chained Skill - Kirito, no, you idiot!_

No one ever used long Skills in a boss fight. _Ever_. They were too easy to interrupt, and if the boss was tough enough to need them odds were they _would_ disrupt your strike, and the delay would leave you almost as vulnerable as-

_A lagging player_.

She’d felt herself freeze, hanging in a blur of blue-black; hearing screams, but unable to so much as feel her own heartbeat-

Lurched back into the world to an explosion of polygons, and ragged cheers. Breathing hard... to see Kirito not breathing, not _moving_ , still frozen in the midst of dispersing rainbow shards.

_He lagged_ , she realized. _Right in the middle of his attack_.

If he’d used a shorter Skill - the system would have halted him there. Defenseless.

_How did he_ know?

She didn’t know. He’d just _known_ , and that had been yet one more mystery about him, drawing her into those haunted black eyes.

The thought that she might have lost him _then_ , before they’d ever really found each other - she wanted to _hit_ something.

“Why did you do it?” Asuna demanded. “You knew it could kill people! Who _are_ you? Why is the military involved with Kayaba?” _Where is my family?_ It didn’t matter if she was in America. Her father would have hired someone to watch over RETCO’s second heir. Whether she liked it or not. Yet there hadn’t been anyone.

Which implied whatever Bluebook was, it had power. Enough power to make Yuuki Shouzou sit on his hands. There was no way that could be good.

She wanted to scream that at them. She wanted to demand they tell her the truth, _everything_ ; or gods, tell them nothing and just turn everyone loose to make their own way home. America couldn’t be harder to survive in than Aincrad.

But she was the Vice-Commander of the Knights of the Blood Oath. People were counting on her to keep her head. To get them all out of here.

_So stay calm. Ask what they expect you to ask. And_ watch _them_.

“We’re not involved with the computer-happy megalomaniac. Believe me, we’d _love_ to know where the guy is.” O’Neill shrugged. “Introductions are good. You’ve met Dr. Fraiser. That’s Dr. Daniel Jackson,” a nod toward the curious blond in glasses, “Major Carter,” the blonde who’d called him sir, “and Murray.”

_What?_

The dark-skinned man in the hat inclined his head.

...Maybe Murray was a family name. Or a screen name. It just didn’t feel right.

“Now, if the nurses got your files right,” O’Neill went on, apparently planning to pretend his way right past stretching the truth, “you three are Asuna Yuuki, Andrew Mills, and... Corporal Ryoutarou Tsuboi.” He smirked a little. “You’re a long way from base, Marine.”

Klein blinked. Shook his head, red hair a wild mop of a mess. “Wow. Nobody’s called me that in... whoa. Can’t remember. Before I logged in for - heh. A lot longer than the weekend.”

“No one’s used your real name in two years?” Daniel blurted out. “Ah. I’m not a medical doctor, I’m an anthropologist... that just seems odd.”

Hairs prickled on the back of Asuna’s neck. That wasn’t an innocent question. Not coming right after the Colonel addressing the _Marine_ , not Fuurinkazan’s guild leader. That was a _wedge_.

_They’re trying to split us apart_.

Maybe that was the right thing to do. This was the real world. People had lives here. Families.

_But I don’t know this colonel. Who he works for. Why we’re here. I need to protect my people. I need Fuurinkazan!_

From the corner of her eye, she caught Klein’s wink. And Agil was just there, solid and ready.

_We’ll back you_.

They trusted her. Even after her commander had turned out to be Kayaba. They still trusted her.

Like Kirito had trusted her, when he’d vanished to check on the lower levels. He’d scout, as he had so many times before. She’d keep people together until he could make it back.

_Make it back. Don’t get caught!_

O’Neill had said this was a _secure area_ , with the kind of tilt to his head she’d seen on Heathcliff demanding a duel before he’d let her leave the Knights. _I have the power to make the rules here_ , that look had said. _Go ahead and challenge me. You’ll lose_.

And the way he poked and _hinted_ with his words, shoving people into the roles he wanted them to take....

_We lived through that with Heathcliff. Never again!_

Easy enough to decide. But if this colonel caught Kirito, Yuuki Asuna couldn’t do much. Not with RETCO nowhere to be seen.

So. Deep breath. Stand straight, sheet or no sheet. Forget the sheet. Stand, just as if she were in full armor. They didn’t need Yuuki Asuna; they needed Asuna the Lightning Flash.

_Time to find out what these people are made of_.

“Dr. Fraiser,” Asuna said levelly. “You said, everyone from the game is here?”

“Yes,” Janet answered, picking up a black marker to sketch a tall building on a little whiteboard hung on one bookcase. “I know it might not seem that way, but you can fit a lot of people in one building when they’re... well. Unconscious. We’ll try and find more room for you now.” She turned back with a professional smile. “The logistics of moving you wasn’t as complicated as you might think. You needed long-term care-”

“Everyone?” Asuna persisted, almost feeling Klein and Agil stiffen as her meaning sank in. “You’re sure?”

“We’re sure,” Carter put in. “We tracked down all of the NervGear that Kayaba sold. If you haven’t seen someone, they’re probably just on another floor.” She winced. “Sorry. If they’re alive, they’re here.”

“I... see.” Asuna took a deep breath, catching a glimpse of redheaded stillness that usually meant Fuurinkazan was about to take something apart into tiny, tiny pieces.

_You’re lying to us_.

It hurt. They were out of the game. This was the Otherworld. They were supposed to be _safe_.

_Kayaba came from the Otherworld_ , Asuma reminded herself, grim. _Nowhere’s safe_.

Time to find out what other lies they’d tell. “You never answered my question, Colonel. Why did you move us? You knew it could kill us! What gave you the right?”

Brown eyes narrowed at her, annoyed. Asuna gritted her teeth. If he tried patting her on the head, he was going to lose a hand.

“It wasn’t his call to make.” Janet stepped forward, marker capped and gripped tight. “It was mine. The governments involved agreed that even with the risks involved in transporting you, it’d be more dangerous to leave you scattered in hospitals across Japan.”

Asuna gave her a flat look. “Why?”

“Because we didn’t know what else Kayaba was planning for you,” Janet replied, just as level. “And we didn’t know how many other innocent people he’d be willing to go through to do it.”

Asuna tried not to swallow too obviously. “You said there were complications.”

Janet nodded, one hand fingering the edge of her labcoat pocket. “I don’t know how much you know about long-term comas, but... there were unexpected physical side-effects. Your present condition isn’t exactly normal.”

“No, really?” Agil rolled his eyes. “Think we all figured that out when we saw we weren’t just skin and bones.”

“Is everyone all right?” Asuna couldn’t hide a shiver. “The children - Sasha was taking care of a few dozen of them. Are they going to be okay?”

“I hope so,” Janet said soberly. “We’re going to need time to make sure. Do you feel all right?”

Asuna took in the other two’s glances, and nodded. “A little tired,” she said honestly. “It’s been a long day.”

“And those open wards kind of make you nervous,” Klein put in. “Seriously. If you’ve got the orange players in someplace like that, somebody’s going to get hurt.”

Blank looks. “Orange players?” Daniel asked.

Asuna felt the blood drain from her face.

Murray straightened. “These orange players may be a danger to themselves?”

“To themselves? Oh, I only wish. ’Scuse us,” Agil said briskly, heading for the door. “But if Laughing Coffin’s mixed in with _everybody else_ \- we’ve got someplace to be.”

The door opened.

“Relax.” An oddly whiskerless Argo grinned at all of them, blue sheet wrapped around her as a hooded cloak. “There was a lot of screaming, but the Aincrad Liberation Force pulled together, and the rest of us didn’t like them either.” Her grin had all the Rat’s wicked humor. “Ki-bou put the fear of him into Titan’s Hand, and you should have seen where Yulier got Kibaou. He’s going to feel that one for a week. Ooo, Sharpie!”

That quick, Argo was across the room waving a black marker in glee, as Janet did a double-take at her empty hand.

_Pickpocket?_ Asuna blinked. The Skill flash was subtle, but - but how? They were out of the game-

Cold metal kissed her left wrist.

Asuna gripped the thin handle of a scalpel tucked into her sheet, and breathed a sigh of relief. Argo hadn’t just zipped across the room to snatch a marker, even if she was using it to draw whiskers on her cheeks with wicked amusement. The information broker had managed to pass by all three of them....

A quick glance at the tension easing out of Klein’s shoulders, and Asuna knew she’d guessed right. _We’re armed. Not with much, but better than nothing_.

“Oh, yeah.” Capping the black tip, Argo twirled the marker through her fingers. “Kirito asked me to pass on that you’d better watch out. Item durability here isn’t what we’re used to.” Smirking a little, she produced a bundle of red and white cloth. “And Lisbeth had some extra clothes. Thought you could use ‘em.”

Clothes. Yes. That would definitely help. Especially since the medics here seemed to need a refresher on the Ethics Code. Underwear was a good thing. “Thanks, Argo,” Asuna smiled, as the information broker made her way back across the room. Argo was tapping her fingers across books and tables and everything else as she went, outwardly delighting in just being able to touch something _real_. Inwardly... Asuna could almost see O’Neill’s blood pressure rising.

_Good plan_ , Asuna thought. _See how far you can push him. See how much he wants to control us, when we haven’t done_ anything _wrong_.

Keeping her eyes wide and innocent, she turned toward the doctor. “Is there somewhere we can go to change?” _Because we need to get away from you. We need time to think. If Skills are still working, what do we_ do?

“Well,” Kirito said right behind her, “I did find a shower.”

_Eeep!_

_Wait, what?_

“Shower where tell me now!”Asuna’s hands fisted in a gray-and-black sweatshirt collar even as she touched down on solid ground, scalp suddenly crawling with a horrible, itchy, _greasy_ feeling.

His right hand made an abortive gesture to call up a map; opened, as he smiled ruefully. “Up one flight, past the nurses’ station, on your right - hey!”

Why rely on a map when you could strong-arm a guide? “Shower quest!” Asuna declared, dragging Kirito by the collar as she cast a glare O’Neill’s way. “Maybe that will give you time to get your story straight.”

“Asuna!” Kirito was barely putting up a token fight. Even that was proof Argo was right; so frighteningly right. Asuna knew how weak a little schoolgirl had been, before Kayaba had trapped her in the game. Now she could drag Kirito along like a sack of feathers. “It’s the _girls’_ shower!”

_He knows_.

Kirito knew they were different. Yet he was acting as if nothing had changed.

_Because it hasn’t_ , Asuna realized, heading out into the corridor. _We’re still stuck in a dungeon. It’s just not in the computer, this time_.

“Should we rescue him?” she heard Klein ask, as they headed down the hall.

Agil snorted. “Who’d rescue _us?_ ”

Kirito snickered.

A giggle bubbled up inside her, and they both ran for it.

* * *

“That could have gone better,” Janet said, half to herself.

“Don’t see how, Doc.” Agil gave her a steady look. “You’re not sure what you want to tell us yet. That’s kind of scary.”

“Oh, it’s much worse than that.” There was a bouncing glee in Argo’s tone. “You’ve got a bad case of pretty-girls-aren’t-in-charge-itis, Colonel. If I were you, I’d see somebody for that. You _want_ Vice-Commander Asuna in charge. Believe me.”

“Says the girl who just drew on her face,” Jack snarked back.

“And why will cost you ten thousand col,” Argo stated, unfazed. “But I’ll give you this for free, Doctor. A shower’s probably a good idea for everyone. One thing NervGear can’t get right is the feel of running water.”

“So it should help get people reoriented to reality. Thank you,” Janet said honestly.

“Not to mention,” Klein tugged fingers through his red mop of hair, “six thousand cases of bed head. That’s enough to make everyone snarly right there.”

“Ma’am,” Colonel O’Neill put in, not smiling.

Klein raised a questioning eyebrow. “Huh?”

“And that would be, huh, _sir_ ,” the colonel went on. “Corporal.”

Sam looked dubious. Teal’c’s face was suspiciously neutral. And Daniel, Janet saw with a quick glance at the one man she’d expected to object, looked like he reluctantly agreed with Colonel O’Neill on this one. Why?

Brown eyes narrowed, and Klein shook his head. “I don’t see ID. I don’t see any orders. Comes down to it, I don’t even have any proof I’m in America. All I know, right now, is we’re out of Aincrad. And you’re not the one who got us out.” He inclined his head; nothing like a salute. “Maybe you could bring a newspaper next time. Or, I don’t know, maybe let us make a phone call. To our _families_.”

A knock at the door, and Ellen opened it. “Dr. Fraiser? Do you know where Colonel O’Neill - oh. Sir. There’s a call for you and your team in the conference room, from the Mountain. The general-”

The colonel gave her a look. Ellen cut herself off, an indignant flush rising in her face.

O’Neill turned back to Klein. “Phone calls are going to have to wait.”

“Why’m I not surprised,” Klein muttered.

Agil touched his shoulder, with a _not now_ shake of his head. “Might as well get back to Fuurinkazan. If that’s Cheyenne Mountain... they’re going to be a while.”

“Cheyenne?” Klein echoed, confused. “That’s NORAD. Why-?”

“That’s NORAD,” Agil agreed, giving them all a weighing look. “Got people from them in our cafe all the time. Deep space radar telemetry, they said.” He headed for the door, nudging Klein along. “This is going to be interesting.”

Argo lingered at the doorway a moment longer, a casual rearguard. “Another piece of advice, Doctor. Anyone tied up is trouble. Anyone who’s tied up so tight they can’t move....” Her finger made a circling motion near her temple. “They’re out and out _derentis_. Keep your eyes open. They kill people.”

Like a blue shadow, she was gone.

“She said _derentis_.” Daniel’s eyes were wide. “That means-”

“I know what it means.” Jack scowled at the doorway, thumb and finger tapping together like they wanted to squeeze something into submission. “Sounds like they have their own militia. Anybody else have a problem with that?”

“I don’t know what it means,” Janet pointed out, waving Ellen in. “And frankly, Colonel, we don’t have enough people here to keep order if a panic starts. If they’ve tied some people up, fine. As long as that’s all they do, we can sort out who’s been insulted later.”

“It is not an insult, Janet Fraiser.” Teal’c glanced toward the corridor, then back at her. “Daniel Jackson has identified the word as Ancient. It means insane.”

“It means more than that.” Daniel was scribbling notes, a concentrated scrawl across a notepad. “They speak English. Colloquial, American English, which is _creepy_ , given most of them are from Japan... anyway. Argo was speaking English, but she said _derentis_ without even hesitating. Which... it’s weird, but I can’t think of anything else... it implies they’re using it as a loanword. Because nothing else fits.” He looked up from the paper. “Argo doesn’t just mean crazy. She means something very specific.” He grimaced. “I just don’t know _what_ specifics.”

Janet shot their linguist a look, startled. “Where would gamers have picked up any words in Ancient?”

“Maybe the same place they got naquadah in their systems,” Sam suggested. “We still don’t know what the Goa’uld can do with nanites if they try. We’ve seen them age people, create bombs, and now Kayaba’s used them to deliver genetic engineering. What else did he get them to do?” She turned to her commanding officer. “Speaking of naquadah, sir... you might want to ease up on Corporal Tsuboi a little. Everyone he knows here has naquadah inside them. Most of us don’t. I know how weird I felt the first few weeks after we encountered the Tok’ra, and I knew I’d been affected by alien technology. They have no idea what they’re feeling is being influenced by alien heavy metals. Tsuboi’s two years out of practice, sir, but he _is_ a Marine. And right now all he knows for sure is that he’s got teenagers to look after, and you....” She groped for words.

“Creep him out?” Daniel suggested.

“Something like that,” Sam admitted, a little pink. Glanced at the colonel, and tried not to laugh. “Pretty-girl-itis, sir?”

“She’s a _teenager_ ,” Jack grumbled. “We’d better warn the general, so he can pick up more antacids. Conference room?”

Ellen gave him an uncertain look, and pointed out and down. “Second floor, Colonel.”

“Of course it is,” Jack sighed. “So. We get to tell the general about stray alien languages, nanites, and cranky Marines. And after we get done with that, maybe we should spend a few minutes to figure out just how Asuna’s boyfriend - who, let me point out, is just as laced with naquadah as the rest of them - managed to sneak past us. _Twice_.”

* * *

“You two look a lot better.”

Kirito let Klein drag him into another quick hug, noting how the guild leader looked a little less strained around the eyes. Part of that had to be the fact that Klein had obviously acquired some hot water and soap of his own; still damp, his mop of unruly red had been semi-tamed by a pale blue scrunchie. “You smell better, too,” Kirito teased. Caught Asuna’s sudden glance down, and covered her eyes. And his own. “Just one problem.”

“Legs,” Asuna managed, caught between a shriek and a giggle.

“Hairy legs.” Kirito almost stifled a snicker. “Brain bleach. Please.”

“Oi! Some thanks I get.” But Klein grinned as he pulled on dark red scrubs. “The docs are scraping stuff together as fast as they can, but it looks like a lot of guys are going to be feeling a draft tonight. Some people would rather stick with paper and sheets than wear another guild’s colors.” He shrugged. “Can’t say I blame them.”

Kirito nodded, remembering how fast he’d ditched the Knights’ white and red. It was one thing to be offered the chance to join a guild. That spectacle Heathcliff - Kayaba - had made of their duel....

_It’s over_ , he reminded himself, checking where Agil, Argo, and anyone else he knew were standing in their ward. He didn’t have to look for Asuna. She was a light he could have found with his eyes closed; warm and breathing and _alive_.

Yet if it was over, why were Agil and Fuurinkazan standing guard?

Asuna braced herself, and gestured Agil and Argo over. “We need to talk to everyone in the last raid. We need to tell them, we don’t know _why_ we’re still....” She swallowed.

“Yeah,” Agil said heavily. “Argo has a few ideas about that.”

“So do you.” Argo glanced at the axe-wielder, obviously intrigued. “I like yours better.”

Agil shrugged. “Hey, we could both be right.”

“There is that,” Argo nodded.

Kirito shivered, chilled. “You know why Kayaba-?” He couldn’t say it.

Agil blew out a slow breath, and herded them toward the little circle of quiet Fuurinkazan had created around Asuna’s bed. “Wish we had a door we could shut.... First thing you two need to know? _Not_ your fault you’re still breathing. He set you up.”

For a moment, Kirito wasn’t sure he could speak. Or move. Or think. Exposing Kayaba. Deciding to kill him, because it was the only way Asuna would survive to go home. Holding her as she shattered, and facing Kayaba anyway, when his heart wanted nothing more than to die with her, because Klein and Agil and everyone deserved the chance to live....

Asuna made him sit down beside her on the bed. “Explain,” she ordered, voice like edged steel.

Agil nodded, and met Kirito’s gaze. “What I think? That wasn’t supposed to be a duel. It was a damn _cutscene_.”

The world went gray.

“Whoa.” Klein’s voice, as if from a foggy distance. “Um. Asuna, you might want to let us....”

“Do you have Martial Arts Skills?” Asuna said quietly. Her hands were on Kirito’s shoulders. That was... good. Asuna wouldn’t hold him like that if there were a threat. So there wasn’t one. “If he’s scared, and that scares _me_... we’re not in a safe zone.”

“Point.” Klein almost whistled. “Martial Arts?”

Argo chuckled. “Oh, yes.” Her voice darkened. “He doesn’t usually show that off.”

Kirito felt Asuna’s shudder through her fingers. “Kuradeel turned out to be Laughing Coffin.”

“Your _bodyguard?_ ” Argo kept her voice low, but the surprise in it was palpable. “Damn. I didn’t hear anything about what happened to him... heh. Right. Ki-bou happened. Ouch.”

It still hurt. But it was a different hurt than facing Kayaba. Kuradeel had just been sick and crazy. Evil, yes. But Kuradeel had known what he was.

_Kayaba thought he was doing the right thing_.

Shuddering, Kirito focused on the room again. Asuna, beside him, giving him a determined smile. Klein and the others, worried. The rest of the raid, other clearers and front-line players... they were obviously curious, but keeping their distance. For now. “A cutscene,” he got out. “That....” Made sense. In an awful, twisted way. “Why do you think...?”

“He told us Aincrad was there to be conquered,” Agil replied. “And then he set you up to be his big hero.”

Kirito shivered. “I’m _not_.”

“Doesn’t matter what you think. Doesn’t matter what any of us think,” Agil said bluntly. “You were the Hero, he was the Final Boss. And the hero can’t die before the quest is over. He wasn’t going to let that happen.” Agil glanced between them. “You want my guess? He was setting you up on the fly, but damn, can he GM a plot fast. I bet if you hadn’t beaten him, Kayaba would have zapped your avatars back together and taken you with him to the top level. After he told the rest of us if we kept fighting, we’d get you back. Alive.”

“Put it another way,” Argo stated, “fits in right with what I thought. You’d be hostages.” The sheet cast her whiskers in shadow, but didn’t hide the anger in dark eyes. “You spoiled his game of play the noble paladin, so you’d be a whole new game. He could leave a trail of breadcrumbs for twenty-five levels, laughing up his sleeve while we tore the dungeons apart searching. And you two? Locked in a golden cage, if he was smart. Or maybe he’d dump you in some Forest of Wandering, with the areas set so you could only meet at dusk and dawn. The whole star-crossed fairytale lovers plotline. He could have all _kinds_ of fun with that.”

It fit so horribly well. Kayaba had lived to bring Aincrad into existence. And what he’d said after the duel, when the three of them had been watching the logout lights as the castle shut down....

Asuna leaned into his shoulder. Kirito smiled back, gathering his courage. _I don’t want to think about it. But we’ll have to. Soon_.

“Crazy bastard,” Klein said with feeling. “So why the hell did you do it? We could have pulled back. Would’ve been smart to-”

Kirito swallowed. “What if there was a level cap?”

Klein gaped like a fish. “Oh. _Fuck_.”

Agil shuddered. Argo looked unnerved. Asuna swept a confused gaze over all of them, and turned back to him. “Level cap?”

“Right. Your first MMO.” Kirito had to smile at that. Just a little. “Some games have that built in. No matter how high-level the monsters are, or how dangerous the dungeons get, players can only gain levels to a certain point. Usually a hundred. We needed a ten-level cushion to be safe....”

“So if there was a cap, we wouldn’t just be losing people to random high-level mobs at the ninetieth floor,” Klein finished for him. “We wouldn’t _stop_ losing them. Odds of anybody surviving to get to the top-” He winced, and shook his head.

“Even if there wasn’t a cap,” Kirito glanced toward the other clearers, “we lost fourteen people. The bosses wouldn’t get easier. _Twenty-five more floors_.”

Asuna shivered.

“And we were running out of time,” Kirito said simply. “Our bodies were in comas. Anything could have been happening. If I could... kill him... we’d be out. If I couldn’t....” He looked away. “You’d know what you were facing. You’d have a better chance.”

Silent, Asuna laid a hand on his cheek.

“I’m so tired of people dying,” Kirito whispered. “I’m tired of killing. But... I’d done it before, so... one more time....”

Hot drops splashed on his hand. Tears.

Why was he crying over Kayaba, of all people? If he was alive, and Asuna was alive, then Kayaba was probably....

It _hurt_.

“Kunimittz?” Klein said quietly.

“Hey, paramedic, not a doc,” Fuurinkazan’s main tank replied. “And kind of out of practice. I’m guessing delayed stress reaction. We thought they were dead. _They_ thought they were dead.”

“Man, what I wouldn’t give for a good cup of coffee,” Agil muttered. Nudged his way in, and rested a broad, warm hand on Kirito’s arm. “You want to talk about it?”

Eyes still wet, Kirito shook his head.

“We were somewhere else,” Asuna said quietly. “In the clouds. Watching the castle shut down. Watching you all log out. We thought... we thought we were just ghosts in the game, and when it ended....” She clung closer to him. “Kayaba was there. Not Heathcliff. Kayaba. We asked him _why_.” She drew in a breath, bracing herself. “He said, there’s a world where the castle flies. You’ll need what I’ve given you to find it. And if you don’t find it....”

Kirito shuddered, and lifted his head. “If you don’t find it, four thousand deaths may be one drop in a typhoon.”

“Man!” Agil pulled back a little, shaking his head. “Can’t that guy cut us a break? Ever?”

“Like he ever has?” Argo gathered them and Fuurinkazan with a look. “But it’s worse than you think. This means Kayaba had a _plan_.”

_A plan?_ Kirito winced at the thought. _Seventy-five levels of death wasn’t enough?_

“And now we’re on an Air Force base, with guys who don’t want to tell us anything. Guys who had something going on with Kayaba,” Klein said harshly. “Anybody besides me who doesn’t like this?”

“Think that’s a given, Leader,” Issin stuck in. One of Fuurinkazan’s lean fast fighters, his brown hair was still wild, shower or not. “So what do we do? If Aincrad’s calendar didn’t slip - it’s November in _Colorado_ out there. You have to work to find a window, but - ice. _Snow_. Some of us have clothes, but....” He lifted a foot, wiggling bare toes.

“No shoes.” Kirito tried not make it a curse. “My sister sent clothes, but there weren’t any shoes with them. Not even house slippers.”

For a moment, it didn’t seem to register. Which sort of made sense, he’d seen Asuna take her shoes off dozens of times to sneak up on unsuspecting mobs-

_But not in snow_ , Kirito knew, and saw her grimace as she realized that. _She knows better_.

Gaining levels made you tougher, in Aincrad; you could stand the cold longer, fight without slowing down even in the midst of a howling blizzard. But only if you had clothes on. Go barefoot in freezing temperatures, and it didn’t matter how high a level you were. You started taking damage.

_Winter in America. I don’t even know what that’s like! It looks like the western regions of the 55th floor but - X’rphan the White Wyrm. Who knows how much of survival in that snow was real_ -

Kirito blinked. Thought that over again. “We’re in America.”

“Since the giant spiders, seems like.” Klein shrugged. “It’s a weird place, but you’ll survive.”

“How did we survive the latency for a year?”

Argo stiffened. Some of Fuurinkazan shuddered. Caught open-mouthed, Klein just stood there a moment. “...Erk?”

“Latency?” Asuna looked between them, brows drawing down in a way that politely demanded answers.

“Time delay. How fast information can travel in the servers,” Kirito summed up.

“You mean lagging?” Asuna shivered. “We almost didn’t, remember? Everyone lagged a year ago.”

Kirito rubbed his fingers together, trying to find the right words to explain the difference. “Latency isn’t exactly the same thing... Asuna. If they moved us to America, everyone should have kept lagging.”

Asuna’s eyes widened.

“What Ki-bou’s trying to say is, transmission speed goes down with distance,” Argo explained. “Makes programs run just a little slower, because information can’t get between two computers fast enough. Checking your email, that’s not a problem. FullDive in SAO, where a couple milliseconds makes the difference between ducking and getting claws through your throat? _Big_ problem.”

“If they moved us to America, we should all be dead,” Kirito said soberly. “It wouldn’t have happened right away. But the farther we are from SAO’s servers, the longer the latency. Everyone would have been moving slower, reacting slower to the game, and as we went up levels with tougher monsters....” _Wait. Think_.

Under her hood, Argo looked interested. “Ki-bou?”

“We didn’t move slower. After the Arcane Arachnid, we could move _faster_.” Kirito closed his eyes, trying to fit together year-old memories of desperate battles. “Not a lot. A fraction of a second. Half a beat of a gnat’s wing.” He looked around at his friends, chilled. “We didn’t move farther from the servers. We moved _closer_.”

Klein scratched his head, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “You think Kayaba was using servers in America?”

Kirito shook his head, confused himself. “He couldn’t have been. They wouldn’t have been fast enough.”

“I know they couldn’t be. Doesn’t change the fact that they were. We’re in America.” Klein nodded toward the door and the nurses beyond. “Or somebody’s set up a heck of a movie set, with nothing labeled in kanji and a horde of actors who speak American.”

“And a guy I know,” Agil put in. “I’ve seen Dr. Jackson before. Man does love his coffee.”

“And my sister’s letters have American postmarks,” Kirito said, half to himself. “But it doesn’t make _sense_.”

Asuna took a deep breath. “We’ll worry about it making sense later. If we want to be able to move, we need shoes.” She glanced up, eyes full of fire. “And information.”

“Definitely,” Klein agreed. “But before we go hell bent for leather after it, there’s something you two need to know.” He crossed his arms, and gave them a determined look. “You’re alive. Deal with it. If you think you don’t deserve it, that you owe the dead - damn it, pay them back by helping the rest of us find Kayaba. Crazy people _happen_. It’s like a tsunami. Only a tsunami isn’t after you personally. We were there when Kayaba happened, and we lived. I know it’s hard to wrap your head around. And it hurts. But you’re here.” He spread his hands. “Stay with us, okay? Just take it a day at a time. Get used to living again, without that psycho hanging over our heads.”

Kirito shook his head. “I’m not sure he was crazy.”

“I’m not, either.” Asuna shivered, and looked up at a startled Agil. “Bluebook. You know the name.”

“Yeah,” Agil admitted, shifting on his feet. “Kasumi - my wife and I, we run the Dicey Cafe near the Cheyenne Mountain base. Ran it. Before we went on vacation and - well, wrong time to try out a new game.” He looked stricken. “Oh man. I left her with two years of dishes. She’s going to kill me.”

“For not doing the dishes?” Klein said in disbelief.

Agil shook a finger at Klein. “And this is why you’re not married.” He frowned, obviously thinking hard. “Distraction. I’ve got to bring a distraction when I see her. Flowers - nah, not good enough. Two years! Dishes. Birthdays. Anniversaries - oh, I am so dead. I’ve got to bring something good. Something irresistible. Something... cute....”

Kirito blinked, taken aback by a sudden swarm of evil grins. _Why is everybody looking at me?_

Asuna gripped his shoulder. “Mine.”

“Even better!” Agil looked like a man spared. “I bring both of you in, Kasumi will feed you and fuss over you. I’m saved!”

Kirito’s eyes widened.

“Yes! Just like that. Plus five Cuteness - she’ll never resist.”

Kirito was blushing. He could feel the burn. And Klein was not helping, the snickering idiot.

Though Klein’s snickers trailed off as he glanced past Kirito’s shoulder. “Schmidt. Nijikaze. What’s up?”

“I think we should be asking you that, no?” The Divine Dragon Alliance’s leader gave them a searching look; brown hair falling in his eyes, hands splayed and obviously empty. “Is everyone back online? That was... a bad fight.”

Kirito took a deliberate breath, and nodded. “It was. And....” He glanced at Asuna. “Real world or not, I think we’ve been dumped into a whole new level.”

Chestnut brows shot up as Asuna thought that over. She nodded, and looked up at Schmidt. “I think we need a boss planning conference.”

“In the real world?” Nijikaze blurted out. Twisted a finger in her hair, as if she still couldn’t believe the contrast between dark brown and new roots of violet, pink, and azure. “Vice-Commander, I - we’re out of the game. We’re _safe_.”

“We’re out,” Schmidt agreed. Glanced toward the doorway, and passing nurses’ uniforms. “But we’re not safe, are we?”

Nijikaze paled.

“We can handle this,” Asuna said firmly. “We made it through Aincrad. We can make it through this. I don’t _think_ these people mean us any harm. But we have questions, and we’re not getting any answers. We need a meeting of the guilds. We need to trade information, find out what we know. And then we need a plan.” She flourished her bracelet. “They have us identified. They have us _contained_. They said it was to protect us from Kayaba. But they also say there were _complications_. That Colonel O’Neill - it hasn’t even been a few hours, and he’s already tried to split up Fuurinkazan.”

Schmidt looked like a frost viper had slithered down his spine. “Split up the guilds? We have no safe zones, no inns, no locked doors....”

“Exactly.” Kirito held his gaze, remembering a forest at dawn, and a murdered woman’s impossible ghost. _Griselda. I hope you have peace now_. “They say they’re helping us. But they want us to _trust_ them. With our lives.” He looked around at friends and allies, and shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I won’t trust the Knights of the Blood Oath to people I don’t know,” Asuna said fiercely. “What says the Divine Dragon Alliance?”

Schmidt whistled. “I need to talk to my guild,” he said gruffly. “But the Vice-Commander makes a good argument. Fuurinkazan?”

“Kind of trying not to tell O’Neill what I really think of him.” Klein’s smile was all teeth. “Hell yes, let’s have a guild meeting. We’re only going to get one shot to pull this off. O’Neill - I don’t know what the guy does in his day job, but he knows how to push people’s buttons. If we don’t settle on a plan and face him as a team....”

“He’ll roll right over us,” Asuna finished. “Just like Heathcliff did. Because he knows he’s doing this for a _greater purpose_.”

Schmidt’s nostrils flared. The brunet looked like he wanted to bite right through a shield.

But the guild leader settled for a few muttered curses, and a pointed look at Argo. “I take it the Rat knows where the other guild leaders are?”

“A lot of ‘em,” the information broker smirked. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

* * *

_Clothes_ , Lisbeth thought, nervously picking a bit of lint off her sleeve as Agil and other guild leaders summed up what little they knew about Project Bluebook. Her family had sent stuff to wear, but a lot of people hadn’t been so lucky. _We all need clothes. Or something to make them out of. I wonder if Ashley’s figured anything out yet? It’s so_ weird, _seeing Kirito without his coat_.

“So they call this the Project Bluebook Rehabilitation Center,” Thinker stated, “but you say Bluebook is something that goes on in Colorado. In someplace called Cheyenne Mountain.”

“Which is part of a big Air Force base,” Agil nodded. “My wife and I ran a cafe pretty near the place. Bluebook works under NORAD-”

“What’s a NORAD?” Asuna pounced.

“U.S. Air Force guys who keep an eye on the sky for missiles and other nasty stuff,” Agil filled her in. “It’s a big base dug into the mountain. Bluebook’s in their basement. They say they do deep-space radar telemetry.”

Klein gave him a sidelong look. “From under a mountain?”

“If they’re using satellites, that wouldn’t matter,” Kirito observed. “But you don’t think they are.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Agil said honestly. “But Dr. Jackson - the tall blond guy with glasses, you’ve probably seen him asking about weird things - he works for Bluebook. He comes in for coffee, usually with a stack of papers half as tall as he is. Sometimes he’s with O’Neill. Sometimes he’s with a few of the others. Never thought much about it. Bases hire academics for stuff they can’t find in the ranks all the time.” He paused. “But why would deep-space stuff need an anthropologist?”

Asuna nodded. “And why would a radar facility say they’re still looking for Kayaba?”

Almost as one, they looked at Argo.

“What, you want miracles?” The Rat shrugged. “Right now, everybody’s still running around like a stirred-up anthill. Including some of us. Let’s get things calmed down a little. Maybe get some real food. If we can trust the food. After that....”

“I don’t think we can wait that long,” Asuna said soberly. “Right now they’re off balance. We surprised them by waking up. I’m not sure if their silence is surprise or a deliberate plan, but all Dr. Fraiser’s told us is that there are _complications_.” She glanced over the crowd; guild leaders, some unallied solos like Kirito, and plenty of just plain curious onlookers like Lisbeth herself. Let her gaze linger on Argo’s, a silent question.

The information broker grimaced, and nodded.

Asuna took a deep breath, and met everyone’s gaze again. “As far as I can tell - if you had significant adds to your stats, especially STR, _be careful_. Things are fragile.”

_Things are fragile?_ Lisbeth blanched as a fearful muttering swept the room. She was a blacksmith; she was used to flattening things. But she wasn’t nearly as strong as a clearer, even someone part-time like Agil. This couldn’t be good.

“And before anyone tries it and runs into a wall - I almost did, it’s that distracting....” Kirito drew himself up, a thin shadow in gray and black. “Scan works.”

_Scan works_. Lisbeth felt her heart beat a bit faster. For most people, those might seem like innocent words. Scan helped you pick out enemies faster. Notice a few details on quests you’d never see otherwise; the system flatly wouldn’t show you they were there. But for Kirito?

_“How did you find me?”_

_A shy swordsman had pointed to the bell tower_.

Kirito had once Scanned an entire _city_ to find her. And he said Scan worked?

A mind used to taking apart the game’s blacksmithing recipes to make them _better_ pounced on those words. Lisbeth gulped. _If Scan works... what else does?_

“Holy....” Klein nudged Issin aside just enough to give Kirito a serious look. “Wait. Wait just a minute. Are you saying Skills _work?_ ”

Kirito hesitated. Glanced at Argo and Asuna, and nodded. “I haven’t tried the combat ones yet. But - yes.”

_Skills work_. Hands that had spent two years swinging a hammer clutched each other. Lisbeth took a breath, counted to four, let it out. _How? What did Kayaba_ do _to us_ -

Klein’s grin could have lit the whole room. _“Awesome.”_

“If that’s the case... then I suggest we not show off.” Thinker stepped forward, curly hair still damp. “If Skills work....” He rubbed his arms through green scrubs, obviously chilled. “Then people are going to want to know how. And I think I’ve had quite enough of being someone else’s experiment.”

Now Lisbeth was shivering. Because this place was all white walls, and ranks of beds where they’d been stuffed in like sardines, and nurses and doctors who just said everything would be fine....

“I want to go home!”

Lisbeth swallowed, as so many startled eyes flicked toward her. Because _home_ was too many words, too many images; not her parents’ modest little apartment, but waterwheels and muscle-ache and the nose-gripping smell of hot metal. They were out of Aincrad, she should be happy....

_I want to go home. Maybe I don’t know where home is, but it’s not here!_

“I want to go home too, Lisbeth,” Asuna admitted, one hand catching Kirito’s as if she were afraid he’d disappear. “But I think... we can’t let down our guard yet. We need to approach this like another boss fight. Carefully.” She turned to Schmidt. “We need people to pull themselves together, and be ready to move.”

Schmidt nodded. “Sounds good.”

Asuna looked at Agil, and at Lisbeth. “While we’re getting people out of shock - we need to get everyone equipped, as well as we can. These people are military. They respect uniforms. The more we’re dressed like regular people, instead of patients, the better our ground for negotiating will be.”

Agil glanced at Lisbeth; waited for her nod to grin. “We’re on it.”

Asuna inclined her head to Thinker. “The Aincrad Liberation Force is our largest guild, and you handled the orange players. I think they’re going to want to talk to you. Would you and Yulier be willing to find out... well, what they want to find out?”

“And be a distraction?” Thinker smiled. “I think we can manage that. An anthropologist... either they know enough about gamers to know we’re all a little odd, or-” He cut himself off, suddenly frowning.

“Or?” Agil prompted. “Thinker. Man, trust me. Every clearer knows you had our backs. Wasn’t for the Army and Black Iron Castle keeping the crazies penned up, we’d never have cleared the game.”

“Thank you. I’ll pass that on to my guild.” Thinker straightened. “I used to run a ‘zine. I’ve talked to a social scientist or two. In my experience, anthropologists don’t hang around unless they’ve found something interesting to study.” He paused. “I don’t think I like being interesting.”

Lisbeth swallowed hard. When he put it that way... now she was starting to get scared.

_Kirito’s here. The Black Swordsman and the Lightning Flash. We’ll figure something out_.

“So.” Thinker gave the clearers a wry smile. “While the main group serves as a distraction - what will our scouts be up to?”

Argo winked at Kirito. “Think that library’s on their LAN?”

Kirito smirked. “One way to find out.”

* * *

“They’re cranky, they’re cautious, and none of them will put their backs to a door unless someone they trust is watching it,” Janet summed up. She’d rather be talking to General Hammond face to face, but videoconference wasn’t that bad. The NID had known there would be limits to the people they could smuggle in and out of Cheyenne Mountain’s security, so the Bluebook Center was set up for a good one, with multiple monitors so doctors could both look at data - and their peers’ reactions to it - in real time. “It’s early yet, but the nurses think they’re even tag-team showering. There is always, _always_ someone keeping a lookout. And there’s always someone talking to someone else. I’ve seen less efficient gossip chains in the SGC. Long story short, they are not acting like coma patients, sir. More like people yanked right out of combat. And I don’t know why.”

“Just that it’s impossible,” Jack said plainly. Obviously waiting for an answering nod from his superior officer.

It didn’t come.

“It is impossible, isn’t it?” Daniel put in. “They’ve been here for a year. They’re in a hospital. But they’re looking at us like we’re the enemy.”

“We have not yet dealt honestly with them, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c stated. “They are unarmed, and they have been taken from their homes and families without warning. We are directly responsible.” He turned toward Hammond. “General Hammond. They are in need of Janet Fraiser’s help, but they will not wish to accept it if they doubt our motives. What can we tell them of the truth?”

“We can’t tell them everything,” Sam said reluctantly. “They don’t have clearance. Or background checks. Most of them probably couldn’t pass one. They’re... well, ordinary people.”

“That’s not entirely accurate, Major.” Hammond shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable. “I’ve had people working on background checks ever since Dr. Fraiser’s reports made it clear the majority of the survivors would have alien elements in their systems. And there are a few... interesting people in the bunch.” He leaned back in his chair. “As for what we should tell them... I believe you all need some background, first.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In SAO canon, Kirito’s HyperSense of when people were after him with intent to do violence originated because he was able to determine when he was being targeted by the slight change in processing speed of SAO around him. So in this AU, if they moved enough to change the latency even a little bit - yep, he should be able to tell.   
> Shoes. Two factors here.   
> First, indoor and outdoor and hospital shoes are a bit of a tricky thing in Japanese culture. It’s very likely all the players have shoes in storage... _in Japan._ Families may not have even considered sending more!   
>  Second - this is a Dr. Janet Fraiser-influenced staff. Sad to say, one of Janet’s main problems in the SGC is people trying to get out of medical care before they really, really should. Stealing shoes is probably one of the _least_ of the measures she’s had to put in place to keep people with various alien injuries/infections/being transformed into alien robots/energy beings, from making anything worse.   
>  In bits of this I put in blogposts, someone commented that didn’t the players realize it was _winter in Colorado_ out there?  
>  Short answer: No, probably not.   
> Longer answer: Most of the players are Japanese. I have it on the authority of people who’ve visited the country that the average Japanese concept of the U.S. is something like: “California! NYC! White House! ...Something in the middle?”   
> That said, anyone who survived the western region of level 55, with the white dragon, probably has _some_ idea what they’re up against....


	3. The Clips Episode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kayaba is Evil. Brilliantly Evil. 
> 
> (Hammond wants him. Or maybe just his throat. Between someone's hands.)

The screen showed a sardonic Japanese man in glasses and a white labcoat, seated at his ease behind an executive’s neat desk. “General Hammond. By now you have a very interesting problem on your hands.” A slight shrug. “I suppose it’s only fair to fill you in on what you may have missed, carrying out Stargate Command’s mission to protect the planet.

“Even now, you’ve never truly delved into why the NID sought out my assistance. You have - not without cause - concluded the NID’s covert elements, who seek to take advantage of off-world technology, have no more noble goals than their own profits and power. And so you have committed what any gamer could inform you is a mortal sin. _You are not curious_.

“This, is a mistake.”

A montage of images flowed across the screen. A ha’tak in space. An Asgard mothership. A Replicator shattering under a shotgun blast. A glowing ribbon device, shrouded in darkness except for the outline of a hand behind it.

“Years ago, you opened the doorway to a universe that had forgotten our world existed. Since then you have sought to find friends and allies, as you should have. But you have not examined the conditions they put on your aid.

“The Tollans refuse to help us because we are not advanced enough. The Tok’ra likewise; that, and if our medical technology progressed to eliminate ills such as cancer, no Earth-born human would volunteer to become a host. The Nox are pacifists who hide from the universe, and claim to be morally superior to anyone who dares defend himself with violence. And while the Asgard may favor your Colonel O’Neill, the terms of the treaty they amended to protect us will only hold until we gain enough technological knowledge that the System Lords deem us a threat. Which they may do _at any time_.

“Take it from an MMO designer, General. This game is _unwinnable_.”

Another montage. Niirti caught half-visible. Ma’chello’s Goa’uld-killers. The NID’s cache of stolen technology. An odd, rectangular cube of sapphire crystal, like nothing the SGC had ever seen.

“Individuals have tried to game this stalemate to gain advantages over the System Lords. Nirrti seeks to create an advanced host for her own gain. The NID look for technological shortcuts, or super soldiers to fight the Jaffa hand to hand. And you, General - you look for allies and loopholes, trying to stave off interstellar foes with guile and bullets.

“You are all missing the point. All of these tactics only gain you advantages if you follow the elder races’ lead, and allow the System Lords’ petty dance of power to go on. And by those rules we _cannot_ win.

“So if you don’t like the rules... change the game.”

The video fuzzed, and closed.

On the first conference monitor, Hammond rested his hands on his desk. “That video, together with various interesting data included in Kayaba’s message, led us to the Bluebook facility.” Reaching over, he tapped on his keyboard. “This arrived approximately when Bluebook reported the first awakenings.”

The same man. The same desk. Possibly even the same day, Janet couldn’t judge by the light. Definitely the same smug smirk. “General. I suspect you’re just starting to discover what I truly meant, in our first communication. But you _have_ been busy.” A wider smirk. “Enjoy.”

The screen blazed into the image of a grassland leading to a tall cliff, a flight of dragons soaring through sunset, an impossible sword-girt castle climbing effortlessly into the sky. The view fuzzed and shifted, hovering over a massive medieval city plaza filled with thousands of armed, armored people who might have stepped off the covers of fantasy novels... except for the bewildered looks on their faces. A murmur of worry rose over the crowd; mostly Japanese, some scattered words of English. The audio shifted, filtering out most of the hubbub to focus on a few voices among the rest. White subtitles appeared, deliberate English print.

_-There’s no logout button!-_

_-Look again.-_ A calmer voice, if still young. And oddly familiar. _-It has to be there.-_

_-I’m telling you, it’s not there!-_

“Is that Corporal Tsuboi?” Sam exclaimed.

“And Kazuto,” Daniel confirmed.

_Klein_ , Janet corrected in her head. _And Kirito_. It was easy enough to say the survivors should switch back to the names in their files. But facing the real world after being in an altered mental state for two years was enough of a shock. They could give traumatized people a little more time before pushing them toward normality.

_If the colonel will let them have more time_ , the doctor scowled. _Damn it, I need to tell the general to give Colonel O’Neill some uninterrupted R &R. Klein gave him a perfect straight line with bed-head and snarly, and he passed up a chance to_ pun _in favor of chewing the guy out about military protocol? And I thought Northland was too stressed!_

“Kazuto Kirigaya was listed as one of SAO’s beta testers,” Sam nodded. “It would make sense for Kayaba to mark him in the system-”

In a rush of hexagons, the sky went red.

_-System Announcement. Warning. System Announcement....-_

Hexagons bled, streams of liquid merging together to rise into a red robe, embroidered cowl obscuring any hint of a face.

_-Is that a Game Master?-_

_-“Players.”-_ The robe’s Japanese voice reverberated, hushing the crowd. _-“Welcome to my world.-_

_-“My name is Kayaba Akihiko, and as of this moment, I am the only person who controls this world.”-_

Whispers of worry, curiosity, confusion. The crowd seemed to clump, people drawing into pairs and small groups for comfort.

_-“By now you have discovered that the Log Out button has vanished from the main menu. This is not an error. It is a feature of_ Sword Art Online. _-_

_-“You will not be able to log out on your own.-_

_-“If you have read the manual-”-_

“And now we know how our Marines got stuck,” Jack quipped.

Daniel waved a hushing hand. “Shh!”

_-“The NervGear intercepts and alters the transmission of impulses to the voluntary and autonomic nervous system. In short, it governs your breathing and heart rate; here, and in the other world you left behind._

_-“Disconnecting the power for ten minutes, being cut off from the system for two hours, or any attempt to suspend, hack, or remove the NervGear, will halt these vital functions. In several cases relatives or friends have already tried to remove the NervGear. Regretfully, two hundred and thirteen players have already exited this game, and the real world, forever.”-_

Screens flashed in the air before the robe; flickers of news articles, weeping women and children on TV, internet headlines of _Game Turned Deadly,_ and _Deaths Caused By Online Game Continue to Rise_.

_-No... no way.-_ Klein’s voice, even if the redhead they glimpsed in the crowd was far too languid and handsome to be the man they’d met. _-The gear’s supposed to be safe!-_

_-There are supposed to be safety interlocks.-_ A tall young man with dark blue hair, and Kirito’s voice. Unlike most of the faces around him, his tension spoke of confusion, but not panic. The dawning dread in wide eyes was far too deep to be panic. Half-gloved hands curled into fists. _-But if some of the safety measures were firmware, not hardware....-_

_-Firmware?-_ Klein pounced, gripping the blue-haired man’s shoulder.

_-Proprietary programs and hardware in combination,-_ Kirito said grimly. _-They can be set with a trigger. Safety testing wouldn’t find them, because they’re not part of the operating system. They’re_ below _the operating system. Like a hidden short circuit, that only breaks when you jar the computer.-_

_-You mean it’s true? Oh, shit....-_

_-“This information has been broadcast to your news media and governments. The danger of NervGear interruption should now be removed. So relax... and focus on beating the game.-_

_-“But you can no longer respawn in this game. Once your HP reaches zero, your avatar will be erased, and the NervGear will destroy your brain._

_-“You need only fulfill one condition to set yourselves free._ Clear the game. _”-_

A gloved hand rose, and a schematic of a giant floating castle appeared, floors lighting from red to blue except for the last, topmost level.

_-“Reach the top of Aincrad, clear all one hundred floors, and defeat the final boss. Once this is accomplished, all players still alive will be immediately logged out. I give you my word.”-_

“The word of a psychopathic maniac,” Jack muttered. “Oh yeah. Real convincing.”

_-“Some of you still doubt the reality of your situation.”-_ Gloved fingers touched a floating menu. _-“In your inventories, there is a gift from me.”-_

Across the plaza, frightened players pressed fingers and thumbs together, pulling downward with a ringing chime. Fingers tapped, and small hand mirrors appeared in confused hands. People looked at the mirrors. Looked up, bewildered-

Every form suddenly blazed with light.

The glare cleared, revealing a very different crowd. Weapons and armor remained, but the bodies....

Teal’c wasn’t the only one raising a brow at how many dresses suddenly had men in them.

Clear in their view was Klein, the same wild red hair and rough-and-tumble face they knew. Beside him, where a confident young blue-haired man had stood....

A fourteen-year-old boy with black hair and eyes, mirror falling from nerveless fingers.

_-“You are probably wondering why. What I hope to gain. Terror? Fear? Ransom?-_

_-“_ Sword Art Online _is my purpose. To create this world, and see it experienced, is all I wished. You will conquer Aincrad, or die._

_-“This ends the official tutorial for_ Sword Art Online. _”-_ A chuckle. _“I wish every player the best of luck.”-_

The red robe evaporated, and the plaza filled with screams.

Janet stabbed _pause_.

“Doctor?” Hammond looked just as grim as she felt.

“I need to take some notes,” Janet answered honestly. “And we all need to catch our breath.” She shuddered. “We thought they were in a coma. We couldn’t measure brain activity; the NervGear was in the way. But they didn’t react to stimuli. What else could it be?” She stared at a plaza full of terrified people. “But they were awake.” _Awake, and trapped by a madman_.

Damn. No wonder they were showering in shifts. The last time they’d closed their eyes in the waking world, they’d lost everything.

_And they don’t even know what else they’ve lost. Not yet_.

Damn Kayaba. How did she even start to tell them?

“ _Awake_ kind of implies among the land of the conscious, Doc,” Jack pointed out.

“Actually, that depends on your cultural definition,” Daniel put in. “There are several tribal cultures who consider dreams just as ‘real’ as waking reality.”

“Given what we experienced on the Gamekeeper’s planet,” Sam said thoughtfully, “you could think of this as a shared lucid dream, sir.”

“They were conscious of their danger, and who had threatened them,” Teal’c nodded. “Perhaps they were not truly awake, O’Neill. But they were awake enough.”

“Okay, weirdness abounds,” Jack sighed. “Just another day at the office.” He eyed the screen. “Let’s see what else the bastard wants to wave in our faces.”

Janet cleared her throat.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. “Doc?”

“Why?” Janet said bluntly. “Kayaba’s first message said we weren’t curious enough. This one sounds like it’s meant to give us more hints. _Hints_. It’s not a briefing-”

“It’s a puzzle.” Daniel grimaced. “I think she’s right, Jack. Kayaba....” One hand opened, as if grasping for just the right words. “To him? This is a _game_.”

“I think we can’t just watch this,” Janet agreed. “We need to be asking _why_. Why he’s shown us what he has. What he _isn’t_ showing us. Why a man the Pentagon asked to create SGC training scenarios would trap people in a game where they could actually....”

_Oh god_.

“Janet?” Sam leaned toward her, alarmed.

“It was right in front of us,” Janet got out, meeting Teal’c’s gaze. She saw a sudden, cold anger darken his face, and knew he’d figured it out. “We saw it, but we couldn’t _see_ it. Because none of us knew the game was still playing.”

“It is not unlike what crueler System Lords have done, when they have no shortage of Jaffa.” Teal’c’s expression was hard as flint. “The death rate is... not unusual.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Daniel waved his hands, incredulous shock dawning in his face. “Are you saying you think he locked them into SGC _training scenarios?_ They were just kids! That would be... crazy....”

“Ten thousand people in booby-traps meant to kill them,” Jack said dryly. “I think Kayaba’s got crazy covered.”

_It’s more than that_ , Janet thought, as Jack started the video again. _He wasn’t just planning to kill them; not if he dangled a way out in front of their faces. Why? And if he kept them under so his nanites had time to work - why do we have different groups of modified people? Why aren’t the effects all the same?_

Kayaba’s voice filled the room again, over images of despairing people sitting in alleys and rocking; dissolving to bodies leaping off the edge of an endless abyss. “Some refused to see the gift they had been given.”

Empty air shimmered to a room lit with Ancient symbols, where a young man in leather armor writhed under the weapons of a dozen skeletal robots, then shattered into fading light. The image cut to a massive, mosaic-floored hall, whose webwork of odd oval windows shimmered with oily iridescence-

From above, a giant, vaguely canine red humanoid leapt down, massive sword tossing a blue-haired knight like a ragdoll.

“Some failed to find the strength to survive.”

The knight was trying to say something Janet couldn’t make out, before he shattered under the hands trying to save him. Small hands, with familiar half-gloves; the view pulled back to horrified black eyes under wild black hair.

“Kirigaya,” Jack muttered. “A _kid_... Kayaba, you bastard.”

“But some,” the programmer’s voice lifted in what seemed to be pride, “ _adapted_.”

_December 4th, Aincrad Year One_ , appeared across the bottom of the screen. _First floor boss fight: Illfang the Kobold Lord_.

“Less than a month after the game started,” Sam murmured. “What-”

The view pulled further back, revealing a few dozen scared, grim players scattered in little groups around the alien hall. All were armed and armored, in the same not-quite-medieval style they’d seen in the opening plaza. Only weapons and gear were battered and dirty now; and too many eyes were blank, empty, _this can’t be happening_.

_There’s Agil_ , Janet realized, catching sight of somebody determined not to run. _God. He looks like any newbie who just landed in the infirmary. He doesn’t_ want _to die, but everything through the ‘Gate is just so bizarre, you can’t think fast enough..._.

Which was why the SGC had wanted training scenarios in the first place. But not like _this_.

“Oh hell, they’re going to die,” Jack breathed. “Civilians. Damn it, Kayaba - you can’t just dump people into combat and hope they’ll live. They outnumber the damn thing, they could _take_ it if they grit their teeth and sucked up the losses, but that doesn’t matter if they break-”

Kirito got to his feet. Eyed the red-eyed monster, with a look Janet knew all too well.

_You’re dead. You just don’t know it yet_.

“Um.” Daniel blinked. “He doesn’t really think he can....”

“He does,” Teal’c stated. “Though I did not think he would be so foolish as to attack alone- ah.”

A flickering movement, and a cloaked girl in red and white stood beside Kirito, rapier unsheathed. - _I’ll go too._ -

The dark head bent; one quick, acknowledging nod. - _I’ll count on you._ -

_Attacking: Two-member party_ , words scrolled below the image. _Kirito, Asuna_.

They rushed the creature, almost a match for its speed. Illfang’s blade glowed blue-green, as it prepared to unleash another devastating strike-

Kirito held his sword down and back, left hand flat on the blade as it charged with brilliant blue light. _Moved_ , strike meeting Illfang’s charge, knocking the deadly blade up and away.

- _Switch!_ -

Asuna leapt into the opening, rapier glowing with light, almost in position to strike-

The monster’s eyes blazed red, and he struck.

Asuna’s cloak tore away in a cascade of emerald sparks. But she ducked the blow, chestnut hair flying free, and _stabbed_.

Illfang was flung back, snarling.

And then it was a race, teenagers versus a lightning-fast monster. The pair had a rhythm, like a good surgery team; Kirito’s blue-lit longsword would block Illfang’s blow, Asuna would leap in and deliver a pink-glowing blast of a stab. The green bars curving around the monster’s head were decreasing-

Kirito missed.

Illfang’s strike smashed the boy back into Asuna, hurtling them both off their feet, bodies skidding across the patterned floor. Janet could see them trying to catch their breath, hands fumbling after the swords knocked out of their hands.

Everything seemed to slow.

_He’s doing this on purpose_ , Janet thought, fighting off the red haze of fury that wanted to cloud her vision. _Kayaba’s lingering over this. He’s_ enjoying _it_.

Kirito was down, a glowing red gash fading off the light armor chest-piece. Down, and not going _anywhere_ fast; whatever the game was using for “pain”, the teenager looked like any SGC fighter on the wrong end of a zat blast.

_He knows he has to move, or he’s dead_ , Janet realized, seeing that stricken face. _But he_ can’t.

Asuna was moving, grabbing her rapier in slow motion. Turned, and deliberately dropped to one knee in front of Kirito, sword raised, with a white face that shouted she knew she couldn’t block Illfang and survive-

A shadow swooped in front of her.

Agil’s axe bashed the Kobold Lord’s blow to the side in a blur of green. - _We’ll hold him off while you recover!_ -

For a few seconds, Agil and a half-dozen other players did just that. Then Illfang exploded into motion, knocking them all back in a blur that took him soaring up into the air and left them scattered on the ground, too stunned to move.

_Can’t move, but they can still see it coming_ , Janet thought bleakly. _Damn you, Kayaba. They know when he lands, they’re all dead_.

Kirito lunged to his feet, and leapt.

- _I’ll get you first!_ -

The Kobold Lord hit the ground hard, cracking some of the mosaic. Kirito landed, rolled; came up running, sword still in hand, Asuna rushing in to follow-

Fifteen seconds. Maybe less. And that deadly pair smashed Illfang back and back and _back_ , Kirito pulling another of those impossible leaps to tear a rising cut across Illfang’s chest, face twisted in a berserk scream.

Glowing, the monster’s body shattered into shards.

Kirito landed, breathing hard. Face almost blank, with a look Janet knew too well. _Is it over? Please, tell me it’s over...._

_Congratulations!_ blazed white in the air, and players broke into ragged cheers.

The image shrank, obviously about to cut to another section. This time, Daniel hit the pause. “...It doesn’t fit.”

“Guy traps kids in a game, and tells them they’ve got to fight or die.” The tightness of his eyes was clear evidence that Jack was on a rare slow boil. “There’s a lot that doesn’t fit.”

“No. Not that. I mean... they worked together to defeat Kayaba’s... first boss,” Daniel stumbled over the phrase. “Even if that man died - it must have helped, right? It showed they could play the game. That they could beat it. _How_ they could beat it.”

Startled, Janet nodded. “I think that’s when the death rate first started dropping.”

Daniel let out a slow breath. “It would have been a critical event, Jack. Part of - well, the founding myth of the community they formed. The people there would be _known_. Respected. Look at Asuna and Andrew Mills now. They’ve got positions of authority. Kazuto doesn’t.” He glanced at each of them. “Why?”

Jack blinked. “That’s what jumps out at you?” he said in disbelief. “Danny. Not every good fighter is a leader.”

But Jack frowned as he said it, and Daniel nodded. “Solo. They implied he’s not in their groups. But he acts like a leader, and they trust him. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s got to be more complicated than we know about.” He stared into the distance. “Two years is long enough for humans to complicate anything.”

“Indeed.” Teal’c wrinkled his brow. “The players’ words were not Abydonian.”

“No,” Daniel agreed, a little startled. “A month in, they’re still speaking Japanese. I wonder when that changed?” Blue eyes narrowed. “I wonder _why_ it changed.”

“You have an evil thought,” Jack said, almost casually.

“I hope I’m wrong.” Daniel rested his fist on his chin a moment, looking bleak. “I hope it was an accident. But so far, nothing Kayaba’s done has been an accident. Language is culture, and....” He glanced at Sam. “Why do we wind up with potential security breaches whenever a couple people from the SGC go for groceries? Particularly people from the same team.”

“’Gate translation,” Sam said ruefully. “We get distracted, we start talking. People know never to mention the missions; that’s classified. But we sometimes forget not all the words we know are English.” She grimaced. “I have to spell-check all my reports, and even then I don’t catch everything.”

“Everyone who’s been through the ‘Gate has the same problem,” Janet agreed. “I don’t know how the DHD puts bits of languages in people’s heads, but it’s a headache. Literally. We don’t get as many reports of headaches when people are revisiting worlds they’ve been to before.”

“But Kayaba didn’t have access to-” Sam blanched.

“The NID were in possession of a DHD while Kayaba designed his game,” Teal’c noted. “But would they have allowed him access?”

“Why not?” Jack said dryly. “Psychopathic megalomaniacs are right up their alley. He had to get nanites somewhere. They must have let him have access to _piles_ of other stuff.” The colonel smirked. “Must have broken their little black hearts when he double-crossed them.”

Daniel started. Licked his lips, thoughts obviously flickering behind his glasses.

Jack tilted his head. Held out an open hand in a silent _gimme_.

“Did he double-cross them, Jack?” The archaeologist shivered. “I knew some graduate advisors like that. Very bad, but they had tenure, so it didn’t matter who complained.... You’d go to them and ask about taking some course outside the main degree plan. They’d say sure. And sit back and watch, because you didn’t have the prerequisites everyone else knew you had to, even if they weren’t listed... never mind.” He shook it off. “If this is a game? Then Kayaba has to be playing by some rules. We asked him for realistic training simulations. And, well....” Words failed him.

“Dying if you make a mistake is very realistic,” Sam said grimly. “But that doesn’t fit. He said the NID were looking for advanced technology. Super soldiers.”

Janet stared at Hammond’s image, dread clumping like ice in her gut. “Sir.” _Denser muscle tissue. Nerves rewired; as far as we can tell, some of the really advanced ones would be reacting as fast as Teal’c does. Or faster. Tell me you didn’t know about this. Tell me!_

The general’s shoulders slumped. He ducked her gaze, and sighed. “One of the few advantages of rank is the time to sit down and read everyone else’s reports. Even the ones that look like they might have been better written in crayon.”

Jack’s face was a butter-wouldn’t-melt _who, me?_

Janet sat on a sudden urge to break out the itching powder for a certain colonel’s next physical. Just on general principles.

“So yes, Dr. Fraiser. I have been following Bluebook’s reports. And yours, from Dr. Warner’s autopsies. Between what you could measure in those still unconscious and the trends in the casualties... Dr. Jackson. I’m afraid you may be right. Kayaba may have given us _exactly_ what we asked for.” The general’s eyes narrowed, hard and angry. “Unfortunately, we never told him he _couldn’t_ toss innocent civilians into a deathtrap.”

Reaching down to his own keyboard, the general hit _play_.

Kayaba sighed on the recording, evidently satisfied, as new images scrolled across the screen. “Some players made lives for themselves in Aincrad.”

An elderly fisherman who’d hooked _something_ with teeth to match a piranha’s, grinning as he landed it and dodged the snap at his toes. A determined pink-haired young girl, hammering ingots into gleaming swords. A tanned man with a farmer’s straw hat, a heavy wooden staff, and a wry, unsurprised look, calmly thumping a garden of giant Venus flytraps into submission. A young, glasses-wearing brunette who could have been mistaken for a schoolteacher, except for the mace at her side, shepherding children who couldn’t have been more than twelve through a chattering, crowded street.

“Others sought to take them away.”

Scenes of relative peace dissolved into a white-armored, bearded man writhing on barren ground in a cliff’s shadow. Someone’s sword stabbed in, over and over, digging into vital organs in streaks of glowing red. The disbelief and horror on the man’s face as the green bar near him turned yellow, then red and fading, reached into Janet’s chest and squeezed-

The bearded man shattered, screaming. Glowing flakes cleared, revealing a long-haired man in the same uniform and armor, a glowing orange cursor over his head; grin so sick and twisted it didn’t look human.

Janet cringed. That pair of autopsies had been only a few weeks ago. Then, she’d been lamenting over the waste of yet another life. Now?

_That was murder. Pure, unadulterated, murder_.

Bad enough that Kayaba had been killing them. If some of them had turned on each other....

_Jack’s right, damn it. We have to be cautious_ -

_Oh god. Orange_. Orange players. _Is that what they meant? If it is... I don’t care what Jack thinks. I’m breaking out the restraints_.

“Yet while some believed all the world was ranged against them,” Kayaba went on, “others refused to despair. They sought allies, even in the unlikeliest of forms....”

Another forest clearing, shadows stretching black with sunset. Kirito stood ready, long black coat blowing in a leaf-rustling wind, sword drawn but held low. Fuurinkazan was a loose, red-and-black armored diamond behind him, with the wary tension Janet had seen in Marines hoping that things weren’t about to turn bloody. And Argo was a cloaked curl of narrowed eyes and war-claws strapped to gloved hands, guarding Kirito’s off side as lion-green eyes glared at them out of the shadows. _-If you’ve got a card up your sleeve,-_ the young woman muttered, _-now’s the time to play it.-_

“What the-?” Daniel muttered under his breath. “That sounds like-”

_-Just one.-_ The teenager smiled, a little wry. _-Let’s hope I pronounce this right.-_ _< <My name is Kirito. We want to talk.>>_

Janet almost dropped her pen. The script of the translation at the bottom was _completely_ different; a stark, Gothic lettering, as opposed to the normal clear script. And as for the _words_....

Klein’s eyes slid to Kirito for a moment, obviously startled. The rest of Fuurinkazan was a little less than perfectly calm, stealing glances at the black-coated swordsman that said next thing they knew, _trees_ would be talking.

Obviously aware of the looks, Kirito scratched his head, trying to seem cool, calm, and as if he didn’t care if the rest of the group trusted him. Really.

Janet _so_ wanted to feed him a cookie.

_-What the heck did you just-?-_ Argo almost clapped a hand to her face, claws and all. _-Ki-bou. Only you would make friends with mobs.-_

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Klein who shrugged first. One of the other fighters beat him to it; a stocky young man in heavier armor, with a white rope serving as a headband for bushy dark hair. - _Hey, I’m just a tank. You guys find the target, I pull it in, you kill it._ -

- _No one’s getting killed today, Kunimittz_ ,- Kirito breathed. - _I hope_.-

Daniel hit pause, blue eyes utterly stunned. “That was-”

“Goa’uld,” Jack said tightly. “Joy.”

“No. More than that,” Daniel objected. “Timestamp, where’s... damn it, _Year Two Aincrad_ doesn’t help, it’s not specific enough....” He grimaced. “They’re not speaking Japanese anymore.”

“Goa’uld,” Jack repeated. “Noticed.”

“It is more than that, O’Neill.” Teal’c studied the players frozen on the screen. “Even when they are speaking to each other, they are not speaking Japanese. They are speaking whatever language was created within the game, from both Japanese and Abydonian.”

“And I’m beginning to think created _in the game_ is right.” Daniel’s gaze dropped, obviously thinking hard. “Kirito isn’t speaking Goa’uld. Not the way a _Goa’uld_ does. He’s speaking it with an accent. He must have tried _learning_ it....” He slapped his palm against his forehead. “Oh. _Obvious_ , why’d I miss it... it’s a creole.”

Jack arched a wry brow. “It’s a Louisiana chef?”

That startled a laugh out of the archaeologist. “That’s sort of where the term came from, but... linguistic term. A creole’s what you get when you mix a bunch of languages together in one place, with people who _have_ to deal with each other. Most linguists think creoles only originate when native speakers grow up speaking a pidgin, which is what threw me, but... we _know_ Kayaba had ‘Gate technology. And the non-players, the characters in the background - they sound like they’re speaking Abydonian. If whatever the program was using to translate _wasn’t_ translating that into Japanese, but was giving the players _meaning_....” He spread his hands. “It’d be like all the ‘Gate teams dumped into one town together, with no radio, no papers, no contact with English. And the NervGear had direct contact with their nervous system. They might not have even realized they were adopting other words.” He looked as if he’d swigged one of Cassie’s first attempts at lemonade. “They might not have been _able_ to realize it. The translation technology works on an unconscious level....” He blinked. Twice. “Oh. Damn.”

“That? Is a thought,” Jack said warily. “It does not look like a happy thought.”

“Firmware,” Daniel muttered. “Kazuto said, it works below the level of the operating system. That’s... kind of what the ‘Gate translation does to our conscious verbal capability.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Kayaba was able to make Earth-native technology interface with Ancient devices.”

“You do that,” Jack pointed out.

“Yes, sir. But I’d never try something like _this_.”

“Funny little thing you have there, Major,” Jack said dryly. “On this planet, we call it a _conscience_.”

Sam reddened a little. “Thank you, sir. But that’s not the point.” She gestured toward the screen. “I wouldn’t be _able_ to do something like this. I don’t understand how the translation technology works. Not just the physical principles. The mindset of how it’s used, to come up with something this effective.”

“And you two think Kayaba does.” Jack grimaced. “No. That is not a happy thought.”

The species who’d built the Stargate network, whom the Asgard had respected as one of the most advanced races in the galaxy... had the kind of mindset a madman like Kayaba understood. Janet shuddered. _I could have gone my whole life not knowing that_.

The Asgard were telepaths. What did that say about their judgment of allied races?

“There’s something else.” Daniel nudged his glasses, frowning. “Kirito speaks Goa’uld with an _accent_. Argo understood what he said. The others didn’t. The game isn’t translating it for them!”

“And this means?” Jack prompted.

“I don’t know yet,” Daniel admitted. “But it has to be important.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Sam protested. “If you’re going to use the game to teach them an offworld language, why not let them learn it unconsciously? And why give them swords and armor? If these are supposed to be SGC scenarios - it’s like sending people up against a tank with a paintball gun!”

“Such weapons are considered primitive by all the advanced races,” Teal’c agreed. “Yet the ancestors of the Tau’ri found them sufficient to drive Ra from Earth.” He studied the screen. “I am curious to see what allies Kayaba crafted for his game.”

“No kidding,” Jack agreed, pressing play. “Too short to be most of the guys we know, and eyes like that aren’t Asgard....”

Something massive moved in the bushes.

“Definitely not Asgard,” Janet managed, as creatures like nine-foot panthers flowed out of bushes and trees. Dark fur shimmered with hints of violet and azure. Long, razor-edged tentacles, rooted behind the shoulder-blades, tested the air in lazy curls. And the teeth....

Argo wasn’t the only one who gulped.

Teal’c straightened. “They bear Jaffa marks.”

Traced in seared brands on furred brows, instead of black tattoos or golden discs. But definitely Jaffa symbols.

A gray-muzzled felinoid approached the pair, one eye cloudy with age. _< <How is it that a two-legs speaks the tongue of the gods?>>_

_< <The yuan-ti aren’t gods,>>_ Kirito stated. _< <You know that, or you wouldn’t be fighting them!>>_ He jerked his head toward the shadows. _< <Some of your pride let me help them. I don’t know what other humans have done to you, but Argo and Fuurinkazan are in _my _pride. >>_ He lifted one shoulder, a half-shrug. _< <As for how I know - I found where you were teaching the cubs....>>_

“Oh, that’s a lousy spot to cut it!” Jack grumbled, as the image shrank to black. Hitting pause, he eyed a very startled Jaffa. “Anybody else hear what I just heard?”

Teal’c eyed the video as if it’d turned into a scorpion. “The creature had the voice of Tekma’teh Bra’tac.”

“He did,” Sam agreed, shaken. “That was really weird, sir.”

“Okay, that I missed.” Jack shook his head. “‘We come in peace. The Goa’uld aren’t gods.’ Anybody else think Kayaba stole our script? And while we’re on the subject... Danny? You have any Japanese kids we don’t know about?”

“What? No!” Daniel almost took his glasses off, as if he wanted to polish off a spot. “Do I really look like that?”

“When you’re trying to talk to people anybody sane would be running away from?” Jack quipped. “Yes. Yes you do. Obviously, it works.”

“Yeah, well, I usually take... armed backup.” Daniel gave the screen a very narrow look.

“As Kirito did,” Teal’c observed. “Fuurinkazan appears most competent. And I suspect Argo is far more skilled at combat than she would appear.”

“He took people with him. Ones he trusted,” Daniel agreed, thoughtful. “They call him a solo, but he does work with people. I need to find out what solo really means.”

“While you do that, the rest of us need to find Kayaba and do something nasty to him,” Jack said lightly. “Give us the teaser trailers, and never the movies? Just not right.”

“I’m informed by our information technology specialists that the files Kayaba sent us could include several movies, Colonel,” Hammond said dryly. “This is the first one they’ve cleared with virus-checks. The man’s done enough damage with computers already. We’re not opening the door for any more.” The general swept his gaze over them. “Your thoughts? There’s not much more left in this file. But what is there... is ominous.”

“You saw this first, General?” Janet tried to keep her tone calm. Professional. _I need information to treat my patients!_

“Given this is a matter of national security and international diplomatic relations, yes, Doctor.” Hammond didn’t flinch. “Currently, there seems to be very little information here the Pentagon needs to know. We can give them a summary report. Later.”

“Thank you, sir,” Janet nodded. “These are very scared people. It wouldn’t be right to just hand over film of how Kayaba tortured them.”

“Hey. Not all of that looked like-” Jack cut himself off. “Major?”

“They were trapped, and they knew he could kill them whenever he wanted,” Sam said bleakly. “I know what that feels like, sir.”

“You are a strong soul, Major Carter,” Teal’c stated; as if it were a matter of faith. “They survived. I do not believe they will fail now.”

“I hope not,” Janet sighed. “All the same, General, I’ve ordered suicide watches posted. Many of these people act as if... no, they _have_ just come out of combat. Computer-based or not. And all of them have been seriously dislocated from the reality they knew for the past two years. They need time to decompress. To figure out how things work in this world again.” Wry humor twitched her mouth. “Including bathrooms. Whatever Kayaba did left all the parts in working order, but - they’re still fumbling with sinks.” She shrugged. “Seriously, sir. It’s a major issue for coma patients. They have to come to terms with the fact that perfect strangers have been taking care of their bodies for two years. And a lot of these people are _teenagers_. Talk about death by mortification.”

From the faintly mortified look on the general’s face, he was imagining his own granddaughters in that situation. And didn’t like it much. “Let’s get this over with.”

“And some,” Kayaba’s voice chuckled, “truly _rose_ to the challenge.”

_-Hang on!-_

One arm wrapped around the pink-haired smith, Kirito leapt off an icy wall into a backwards somersault, sword drawn-

The blade plunged into glistening white scales of a dragon’s back.

“No. Way,” Jack breathed.

Bigger than a Huey, the monster swerved and rolled as it soared upward through a chasm of ice, trying to shake loose its painful hitchhikers. Gritting his teeth against the wind, Kirito held them both tight to its back; gaze flickering between sword, dragon’s head, edge of the endless ice pit-

_Sunlight_.

Screaming, both were flung loose into empty air.

“Urk,” Jack managed, as the image of the snowfield shrank. “Someone needs to get that kid a rope.”

“You’re just jealous _you_ didn’t get to do it,” Daniel murmured.

“Gentlemen,” Hammond said dryly. “Keep your eyes on this next bit.”

A large stone hall, filled with armed and armored people gathered around a central planning table. This time, the gear was polished, maintained; faces were wary, but ready. There had to be over a hundred people in the hall, clumped in uniformed groups or bearing common cloak pins, all taking the chance to trade a low hum of pre-battle chatter and side-bets as their leaders scowled at a detailed dungeon map spread over the table.

“At least six different armor insignias,” Sam said thoughtfully. “Look - there’s Corporal Tsuboi’s squad again.”

The same four white diamonds, armor in red and black, Janet noted. And Klein was at the main table with other leaders, including Agil in light green and brown armor, a brown-haired guy in silver and blue plate, some others-

An armored vision in familiar white and scarlet, Asuna stabbed her finger down on one intersection. - _There. We can cut the roving boss off there. Klein, do you think you can lure it?_ -

- _Oh yeah_.- The redhead scratched a finger just under his bandanna. - _Hit it and run. It’s big, but it’s_ cranky. _We should be able to pull it._ -

Asuna jerked her head, one grim nod. - _With Fuurinkazan’s help, the Knights of the Blood Oath can keep it too busy to summon reinforcements. Schmidt, Agil - if the Divine Dragon Alliance and your allied merchants can clear the mobs from this corridor, we’ll have a known line of retreat in case the damn thing has some way to fling a blind. Does everyone know who’s assigned to yank casualties out of the line of fire and potion them?-_ She waited for nods. - _Good. We’ll start in an hour_ -

There was a shadow leaning over the map.

Asuna strangled an _eep_ , hand on the rapier by her side. - _Why do you keep_ doing _that?-_

Black eyes blinked innocently at her from under messy hair. Or, almost innocently. Janet had seen Sam’s “Mwha-ha-hah!” when the major had successfully pulled one over on some poor, unsuspecting Pentagon liaison one too many times to be taken in by a look like _that_.

Even if it was a really, _really_ good one.

The faint grin was gone the next instant, wiped clear by sober reflection. - _Something’s not right here._ -

- _It’s a roving boss_ ,- Asuna shot back. - _There’s never anything right about them. And if it was a gimmick, Argo would have found a rumor by now_.-

- _I know._ -

- _She’s the best information broker out there... she sure as heck charges enough for it_ -

- _I_ know. _It’s just... there’s something not right_.- Kirito frowned at the map. - _Give me three hours to scout it._ -

Asuna took a breath to protest. Frowned, instead, and traded glances with the other leaders.

Agil raised a brow, but nodded. Klein’s nod was even quicker, with a grin for the black-coated swordsman. Schmidt and some others scowled, but no one seemed inclined to disagree.

Asuna sighed, and nodded. - _Three hours._ -

“Solo, heck,” Jack grumbled, as the image faded. “He’s their scout. Sneaky little....”

“No,” Daniel corrected, waving for Jack to pause it. “He scouts _for_ them. I know it’s hard to tell from the subtitles, but... there’s a vocabulary shift. I can’t be sure, I never got much past _domo_ , but I think I hear some honorifics, so - it’s likely they kept some of the Japanese politeness levels in their creole. Asuna’s speaking as the Knights’ leader, but she’s addressing the other leaders as equals.” He frowned, thinking. “Kazuto did that, too. I think a more accurate translation would be, _please_ give me three hours. A request. Not an order.”

“Do you think they did?” Sam wondered.

“If they were wise,” Teal’c stated. He settled back in his chair, looking as calmly curious as Janet had ever seen him. “General Hammond. Whatever else is done with these records, I would ask that the SGC retain a copy. There are some among the Jaffa who believe the Tau’ri only have the courage to fight the System Lords because Earth is protected by the Asgard treaty. That if the Goa’uld were to retake this planet, you would fall, and become slaves. Those who know SG-1 know better, but that is difficult to prove to Jaffa who fear the destruction of their worlds.” He nodded toward the screen. “This is proof. They chose to risk their lives, and die free.”

“I have to admit, I thought of your people quite a bit watching this,” Hammond said soberly. “You’re about to see why.”

“Sir?” Jack gave him a surprised look.

Which had to be half an act, Janet thought wryly, so one stubborn colonel and the rest of his team could silently recalculate exactly how they had to approach a bunch of teenagers. Kids playing a game were one thing. Teenagers and all their accomplices who’d figured out the level of tactics and strategy Asuna’s rundown implied....

_Assigned targets, fallback plans, combat medics, groups specifically designated to harass enemy reinforcements and prevent an ambush, and everyone is briefed at least twice_ , Janet ticked off. _They know what they’re doing. I can’t swear to their judgment on_ when _to do it, teenagers - but we have to treat them like they’ve had some training_.

And thank goodness for Cassie’s _gushing_ about the odd game, before everything had gone so horribly wrong. Janet might not know what _pull_ technically meant in this case, but based on context - yes, she thought she was reading Fuurinkazan’s job right.

From the quirk of the general’s brows on the screen, he’d already considered what he thought of the briefing, and SG-1 dealing with the mess, and had decided on _bemused_.

Hammond shook his head, and cleared his throat to bring everyone back to here and now. “Dr. Fraiser. We need you to evaluate their physical condition. Carefully.” His voice would have been grim, if it weren’t still bemused. “I never thought I’d have to say this, but... I need to know how much of the following bit is game mechanics.”  

Blue torches flared, casting weird light over Kirito’s black coat as he traded circling sword blows with...

_Demon_ , Janet decided, hair standing up on the back of her neck as the blue-furred, goat-headed giant slashed out again, snake-headed tail hissing. Twenty feet if it was an inch, with a massive blade to match, held as casually as a Marine would grip his K-Bar. That Kirito could even deflect the blade enough to dodge seemed impossible, much less that he was also dodging rings of blue fire licking upward from thin channels on the dark-stone floors.

The image panned up and wide, from Kirito’s desperate battle to a dozen-odd shaking casualties on the floor, armor and weapons cracked and battered. Klein, Asuna, and the rest of Fuurinkazan were pulling out the wounded, with the sort of desperate hurry Janet had seen on her rare trips through the ‘Gate when _everything_ went to hell.

_October 18th, Aincrad Year Two_ , appeared across the bottom of the screen. _Seventy-fourth floor boss fight: The Gleam Eyes_.

“That’s not a fight, that’s an evac,” Janet whispered, heart in her throat even though she _knew_ this was past and over. “They’re running out of time.” _He’s taking hits. There’s too many down for his friends to evac. He can’t keep this up_ -

- _Klein! Asuna!-_ Kirito deflected the blade to one side in a shower of sparks. _-Hold it off; I need ten seconds!_ -

Leaving the rest of Fuurinkazan, the other two dove in to keep the Gleam Eyes at bay.

_Oh god, kid; ten seconds is a long time in a fight!_

From the grim looks on their faces, Asuna and Klein knew that just as well as she did.

_And they’re going in anyway_....

Klein headed in first; trading a blow to force it to concentrate on him, before its second strike batted him away like a dazed wasp. Asuna darted into the opening he’d made-

_No way_.

Asuna ran up the spine of the demon’s blade, unleashing a green fury of blows into its chest. Let herself spin and fall, ducking under a massive fist by a hair’s breadth.

Klein’s katana licked out to slash under the furred armpit. Even armored, he was blindingly fast; dancing in and out of the demon’s range to give Asuna another opening.

_But they haven’t fought together_ , Janet realized. _Not like Kirito and Asuna have. They don’t have the same rhythm_ -

It almost killed them.

Red eyes gleamed, the snake-tail lashing out to sink its fangs into Klein. The redhead dodged - but that left the demon free to slash at its smaller tormenter-

- _I’m ready! Get clear!-_

-The girl twisted around the monstrous blade’s strike, using her rapier to knock it up and aside as Kirito lunged forward. The swordsman smashed the giant sword farther out of line in a blaze of orange sparks, free hand reaching back for empty air - that suddenly _wasn’t_ empty, azure light shimmering into a silvery hilt-

Arcs of blue light sang through the air, red sparks flying from the demon’s jaw as it reeled back with a scream. One of the monster’s four green bars _dropped_ , half disappearing in a blaze of light.

“Oh, he _hurt_ it with that one,” Daniel breathed. “What the heck did he-?”

Two swords gleamed in Kirito’s grasp. The one they knew, dark as night... and a second, an odd silvery blue-green.

Snarling, the Gleam Eyes swung down-

Crossed blades met the blow, shockwaves of air blasting out to almost extinguish the flames.

_Held_ , as nothing human should be able to hold against a monster whose _sword_ was three times his size....

Slashed up and out, flinging the demon back by main force.

_"Nakshatra... pravaaha!"_

No translation. Only Daniel’s shocked face, and a lethal barrage of blue-lit blows blurring faster and faster as Kirito slashed the monster’s life bars down.

Janet tried to register them all, the same as she would a surgeon’s stitches on a beating heart. _Sideways slash left. Upward cut, right. Crossing X - gah, he’s moving too fast - damn you, Kayaba, that’d_ eviscerate _anything sane_ -  

The demon’s fist snapped out, striking red sparks from Kirito’s cheek. She _saw_ the flinch.

But the swordsman only turned with the blow; two deep strikes sinking in, then dragged across the monster’s gut. And struck again, and again, leaping to reach his giant opponent’s vitals-

Kirito had to have seen the stab coming. He managed to deflect the strike in another shower of sparks, even as the force tore both blades from his hands.

Janet gulped, shiver heading right down her spine-

The swordsman twisted like a cat in midair, catching the hilts before they’d even begun to fall. And kept hitting, all blades and knees and striking feet.

Another skull-rattling punch. Kirito twisted away, ducking one sword-swipe, another; voice rising in a banshee howl as he moved ever faster, blades blurring in lambent strikes-

Snarling, the Gleam Eyes caught the black blade. Dark lips writhed back from fangs, as it bled energy from its palm to hold its prey in place for one finishing blow.

Kirito lunged _in_ , not away; used the demon’s own grip to pull himself inside and past the mountain of edged steel, and drove his blue blade in to the hilt.

The demon shattered.

Kirito blinked, swords still out. Wavered.

Janet stared at the screen, where a thin red shred lingered in what had to be Kirito’s life bar.

_Congratulations!_ blazed in the air.

The swordsman collapsed.

“Ancient,” Daniel got out, as the image winked out. “That was-”

Hammond’s raised hand stopped him from hitting pause.

“And some,” Kayaba went on, “surpassed even my expectations.”

Bodies littered the floor of yet another massive hall, armored forms twitching as if they’d been swept by zat blasts. Agil was fighting to lift his head, face gray; Klein was openly weeping.

_Asuna_ , Janet thought, mouth dry as she focused on the pair of swordsmen standing in the midst of the fallen. _Where’s Asuna?_

One swordsman was a tall, blond man in elegant red armor whose shield and insignia echoed Asuna’s white battle garb. The other was Kirito....

She’d seen men who’d stared into hell before. Kirito was there.

_He has Asuna’s sword_.

But he could barely raise it, much less his black blade, shaking even as he tried to step forward. The blond’s eyes narrowed, just the slightest hint of a terrifying _disdain_ -

_No!_

Kirito didn’t even fight as the blade sank home. He just looked... broken.

- _You are dead._ -

Silent words burning below the image, as Kirito’s avatar began to glow and shatter-

Stopped.

_What the-?_

_You are dead_ still blazed. But Kirito stood, translucent as mist, Asuna’s rapier gripped in one spectral hand. Took one echoing step forward, hand lifting through sheer will....

The rapier punched through the red breastplate like butter.

The blond almost seemed to collapse over the blade, surprise on his face.

No, Janet realized, through the red haze that wanted to take over and make her break something. That wasn’t surprise. That was pure, shocked _delight_.

Kirito sighed. Smiled, in a way that twisted Janet’s heart. And shattered.

- _Game cleared_ ,- a computer-generated voice announced, as Agil stared in shock and Klein started screaming. - _Logout authorized_.-

The game flickered away, to Kayaba’s familiar desk. But the man sitting behind it....

“Now, into your hands, I give my greatest creations.” Kirito’s very live opponent steepled his hands, smirking. “Game start.”

_Kayaba’s_ voice.

Janet breathed in through her mouth, out through her nose. She was not going to lose it here. She was _not_. Even if she’d never wanted to strangle someone so much in her _life_.

“You son of a-” Jack cut himself off, and just snarled. “When I get my hands on you... oh hell no, I’m not gonna be that nice. I’m letting _Janet_ have you....”

The screen went black, names rising like the end credits for Kayaba’s very own horror movie. Janet gripped the edge of the table, hard. Breaking the monitor would serve _no purpose_. None.

Hammond paused the image, face grim. “As of now, I’m ordering more security for the Bluebook facility. I suspect the NID is already aware that our guests are awake. If Kayaba sent certain persons any of the information he sent us... we don’t need these people traumatized further because someone gets insane ideas of what they’re capable of from a madman’s _video game_.”

Um. No. Particularly given what she’d found in the autopsies. _Don’t jump the gun_ , Janet told herself, finding that inner calm that let her operate when the chips were down and there were no second chances. _Think it through before you speak up. These kids need your best argument_.

“Sir.” Jack looked very serious. “I agree with you on the security. These people are confused enough already. We don’t want the NID getting ideas. And we definitely don’t want them letting the genetically modified cat out of the bag until Janet’s had a chance to settle them down. But we might want to have the APs on the perimeter. Not in the building.”

Hammond leaned back, surprised. “Colonel?”

“Asuna says she’s the Knights’ _Vice_ -Commander,” Jack stated. “Only she took charge, and nobody’s arguing about it. And she deputized Corporal Tsuboi and his people to get everyone moving. Not another Knight. If she’s a good commander - and damn it, that bit in Kayaba’s little show says she _is_ \- she wouldn’t do that to her people without a good reason.” He waved a hand around the table. “Anybody else think Kayaba’s armor looked kind of familiar?”

_It was red, not white_ , Janet almost protested. And Asuna’s armor was lighter, probably so she could wield that rapier with blinding speed. But the symbols, the style....

“He was the commander.” Sam looked ill. “He set them up to follow him, then he turned on them. How could anyone-?”

“It is not an uncommon plot twist, in some video games,” Teal’c observed. “The apparent ally, who is at last revealed as the true Final Boss.” The glint in his eye was just short of imminent maiming. “Perhaps Kayaba spent too much time playing _Devil May Cry_.”

Jack gave him a sidelong glance. “Playing what?”

“It is a variety of hack and slash video game,” Teal’c elaborated. “The attitude of Dante Sparda in the first, third, and fourth games, when facing inhuman creatures threatening Earth, is quite admirable.”

Daniel ticked off numbers on his fingers. “What about the second?”

“True fans do not speak of it.” Teal’c nodded at Jack. “It would indeed be wise to keep security at a distance. Those who have been betrayed once, will be quick to assume the worst of others.”

“He carpet-bombed their morale,” Jack agreed. “Would have been bad enough if that was all he did.” His voice softened as he looked at Janet. “Take care of those two kids. Wrap them up in cotton if you can. They shouldn’t be alive, and they know it.” He frowned, not at her. “And we know not everybody came out of that game sane.”

Janet worked her jaw, beating down the impulse to grind her teeth. If you worked in the SGC, you learned that bad things _happened_. And you dealt with it. “The lunatic who killed Geoff Ryan didn’t get away with it, Colonel. I remember the autopsies.” _Just a few weeks ago_. “He was dead a few minutes after his victim. If I had to guess... I’d say someone caught him red-handed.”

“Good.” Jack shook himself, like a dog shedding cold water. “That kind of crazy, we don’t need.” He blinked. “Huh. The kids aren’t the only ones who know it. Tsuboi, Mills; the way they got people not to talk about that last fight... everybody else who was in that room is covering for them. _Huh_.”

“Kayaba broke his own rules.” Daniel’s brows drew down, concentrating. “Why? Some kind of sick reward for beating him?” He shook his head. “And we didn’t see Asuna die.”

“Kazuto had her sword.” Jack crossed his arms. “You saw his face.”

Daniel winced. “Yeah.”

“No wonder she asked about the other fatalities.” Sam shuddered. “Poor kid. She must have hoped they were alive.”

_Kayaba is a sick bastard_ , Janet thought. _Noted. Starred. Underlined. Will_ deal _with him. Later_. “We all saw his face,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “And we recognize it. That’s more important than you might think, General. We saw Kirito’s face. Rendered. Not true to life. But definitely _his_. Not the kid who started the game.” She paused, to drive the point home. “Kayaba reflected their _actual physical condition_ in the game.”

Hammond drew back a little. “Doctor, are you implying...?”

“I will imply nothing,” Janet said flatly. “I have no hard proof at this point in time. But based on autopsies, what I know about Jaffa physiology, and the fact that Kirito is substantially more modified than most....” She jerked a hand toward the black screen. “I have no idea where you’d find swords that could stand up to the kinetic force that’s getting tossed around in that Gleam Eyes fight. And frankly, I wouldn’t recommend trying. There’s a reason giving your hero two swords is the cheapskate’s shorthand for ‘awesome fighter’. The hand-eye coordination and sheer brute _strength_ it would take to keep from slicing yourself to bits is beyond human.” She had to take a breath. “But in Kirito’s case - what he did in that battle? He can do, General. _In real life_.”

Silence.

“Glowing swords?” Jack said skeptically.

“Probably a game special effect,” Janet admitted. “Kayaba seems to _live_ for drama. But you know what Teal’c can do. You saw what the ashrak that came after Jolinar could do. And honestly, Colonel? The player modifications seem to have more in common with that than with a Jaffa. Including the naquadah.”

“Kirito.” Hammond nodded. “I assume you mean Kazuto Kirigaya, Doctor? The most highly modified player?”

“Kirito is the name the survivors know him by, sir. And I don’t know if he’s the most modified,” Janet said carefully. “When we try to group the players by amount and intensity of the modifications that we can find, several cluster together as the most modified. Kirito, Asuna, Agil, and Klein all fall in that group.”

Hammond sighed. “That may explain why Kayaba included this.” He gestured toward Kayaba’s credits.

_Kirito,_ Janet saw at the top. _LVL 96_.

“Read it later,” Hammond advised, leaning back in his chair. “At the moment I have no way to connect these names to your patient records. But given you’ve already identified at least four of the first ten names as among your highly modified survivors....” He shook his head.

“He applied the enhancements by game levels?” Sam said in disbelief. “That’s insane!”

“No.” Daniel’s voice was quiet. Pained. “I hate to say it, Sam, but - no, it’s not. It’s actually....” He grimaced. “Brilliant. It’s the most effective way anyone could have done it. If they really, really wanted Stargate teams. _Not_ super-soldiers.” He looked around the table, meeting startled eyes. “Think about it. This was a _roleplaying game_. You gain levels by getting experience. You get experience by killing monsters, yes; but you can’t just do that and get by. You have to polish your skills. Complete the quests the GM waves under your nose. Figure out what quests are out there in the first place. Kazuto and Argo realized that creatures who didn’t look _anything like_ humans were intelligent. That they could talk to them. _Reason_ with them.”

“Kayaba trapped them on an alien planet, within scenarios the SGC itself has faced,” Teal’c observed. “If he chose to alter them by level, then those most suited to the SGC’s mission would be the most advanced.”

“More than that,” Janet added. The healer in her wanted to toss the whole mess into the garbage can, yet the doctor who’d lost track of all the alien conditions she’d had to cure couldn’t help but admit a grudging respect for the horrifying genius of it. “If you go by level, then you’re altering the people who can mentally and physically handle the alterations in the first place. Kayaba showed us plenty of people who just found a job they could handle and stuck with it. Anyone who hit their limits with the monsters - who just couldn’t _do_ it anymore - would stop. Or die. Only the people who had the guts to keep pushing would go up in levels. And....” Her voice failed her. _Sick. Brilliant, but sick_.

“Doctor?” Hammond prodded gently.

She swallowed. “It’s like making himself the Knights’ commander, sir. He made the players complicit in what happened to them. He didn’t force anyone to gain levels. He just gave them the _opportunity_.” She was not going to cry. Much, much better to be angry. “The ultimate betrayal. They could give up and stay who they were. But if they were going to save themselves, if they were going to fight to save everyone else in the game... they had to change.” She glanced down at her notes, as they swam out of focus. “When they realize that....” _Thank god I already posted a suicide watch. This is going to get ugly_.

“When they do, Kayaba better hope we find him first.” Jack toyed with a pen, salt and pepper brows knotted in a way Janet usually saw just before he unveiled a new plan of attack. “Speaking of. General. We’re going to have a problem. Asuna knows we lied to them.”

“Colonel?” Hammond looked thunderous.

“Not his fault, General.” Daniel winced. “She asked if everyone who’d been in the game was here.”

“And we said yes,” Jack said grimly. “Only, we also told her we don’t know where Kayaba is. And we don’t. We were looking for a fugitive running to save his slimy little skin. Not a guy hiding out somewhere with a NervGear on his head.” He rolled his shoulders, and sighed. “I lied to her face, and she knew it.”

“It was a mistake, not a lie,” Daniel argued. “She’ll understand if we explain.”

Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, you betcha. Daniel. How the hell do we explain we just _suddenly realized_ Kayaba was in the game with them?”

“Well, we could... um.”

“Right. Oh, by the way, the guy who locked you in your own heads for kicks? He was taking home movies while you were fighting for your lives.” Jack drummed his fingers on the table; a slow, deliberate tattoo. “And if that isn’t dropping a piranha in the goldfish tank - think about what it looks like, that Kayaba sent his Funniest Home Videos to _us_.”

“...Oh.” Daniel glanced at the monitor as if it wanted to bite him.

“Oh,” Jack agreed. “That little Evil Overlord monologue of his? We might as well walk in with little red horns and pitchforks. They want Kayaba’s _head_. If they think we’re working with him - trust me. Not pretty.”

Daniel tapped his pen against his notes. “We could just try asking how they got out of the game. They might tell us Kayaba was there.”

“Danny?”

The archaeologist blinked. “Jack?”

“Giant Jaffa kitties. And all you’ve got is a sharp hunk of metal.” Jack gave him a _so there_ look. “Giving him the soulful blue eyes will _not_ get him to spill. Trust me.”

“I thought you wanted to wrap them up in cotton,” Daniel grumbled.

“Damn straight,” Jack said shamelessly. “Keeps everybody from getting cut on sharp edges.” He eyed Janet. “Think you’ve got them distracted with food?”

“There’s only so much distracting you can do with a low-allergen, mostly liquid diet,” Janet said wryly. “If everything goes well they should be able to handle rice soon. That _might_ be more interesting. But I doubt it.” She shifted her gaze to the conference screen. “General. Most of these people have families. They’re going to want to contact them. What do we tell them?”

Hammond sighed. “Given what you’ve told me, Doctor? We’ll have to think about that.”

“Great,” Janet muttered. “I get to haul out the grizzly-level tranks. Joy.”

Jack eyed her.

She eyed him right back. “You saw that fight. Teal’c would have been in my infirmary. Heck, he’d probably _still_ be in my infirmary. Kirito was up and walking around and _dueling Kayaba_.”

“...Um.” Daniel had to lean back in his chair. “Grizzly tranks?”

“The kind I’d use on the Tok’ra if one of them flipped out,” Janet said frankly. “I’d rather not. But we have a lot of scared and angry people in here, who are used to going _through_ anything between them and the way out. I don’t want them trying to go through us.”

“Oh.” Daniel glanced down. “But they’re out of the game. And we wouldn’t hurt them.”

“They might take a while to believe that,” Jack said frankly. Shrugged, and gave his archaeologist a wry grin. “Danny. They’ve been in a coma for two years, they’re unarmed, and whatever Kayaba let ‘em do in the game, shiny special effects do _not_ work in real life. What are they going to do?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have to admit, when I was going over the Gleam Eyes fight, I suddenly started hearing “Carol of the Bells”, as done by the Trans Siberian Orchestra.
> 
> "Nakshatra pravaaha!" - “starburst stream”. (Roughly. Very roughly.)
> 
> APs - Air Patrol. Security.
> 
> Oh Jack. Never poke Murphy....


	4. Owned by a Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I only turned my back for one minute...." 
> 
> (AKA SG-1 gets a demonstration in what solo really means.)

“I’m in.”

On guard by the door, Klein cast an incredulous glance their way. “No way could it be that easy.”

“Heh.” Kirito scratched the back of his head, sheepish, and tried to duck away from Asuna’s knowing smile. “It doesn’t matter how good your security is. Computers still have to be used by people. And doctors aren’t computer experts. So... there are holes.”

“And you’re just that good.” Asuna’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “How good are you?”

“Um....” He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But - it was Asuna. “Mom says I’m the youngest person to hack my own Juki Net account.”

“You hacked _Juki Net?_ ” Checking titles on the library shelves, Argo shot him a look of disbelief. “No wonder you were hiding out in games. Waiting for the knock at your door, you little menace,” she chuckled.

“Actually, that was... a while ago?” Kirito felt his ears burning. “Mom was pretty sure I got away with it. Since the government didn’t show up. Ever.”

“A while ago?” Argo squeaked.

“Hey. Juki Net?” Klein waved a hand.

“Japan’s citizen registry,” Argo filled him in, still eyeing Kirito like he’d grown fangs. “It’s supposed to be one of the most secure databases on the planet. And you cracked it? When?”

Kirito shrugged, face red. “I was ten? I was trying to figure something out... it was there....”

Argo clapped a hand to her face, over the whiskers. “Ki-bou. They will lock you up and throw away the key. No, scratch that. They will drop the key in radioactive concrete, then dump it in the Marianas Trench.”

“For hacking Juki Net?” Asuna said defensively.

“For being Ki-bou.” Argo smirked. “Think about it. If Ki-bou can take apart real computers the way he did Yuan-ti tech, and some of the levels we had to wreck gimmicks on, he definitely did... oh ho. You know something.”

“We found a console someone could use to access administrator’s privileges in the dungeon under the Black Iron Castle,” Asuna said soberly. “The operating system closed it fast, we didn’t have time to do much.”

Argo nodded. “That have anything to do with why you’ve got your NervGear in that bag?”

“Yes.” Kirito glanced down at the gym bag by his feet. Someone ought to know. And if they couldn’t trust Argo and Klein, who could they trust? “There’s a program stored as environmental data. It’s... important. But it’s in pieces. I’d probably need FullDive to put it back together.” He could see Yui’s bright face, as she hugged her Mama. “I just hope I can.”

He straightened in the chair, focusing on the data. “Bluebook has the same problem a lot of secure sites do. They assume anyone in the building has to have passed physical security. Walls and guards. Which means if you can get onto one of their computers, you must be a legitimate user. So if you access the Bluebook LAN on one computer, you have a good chance of getting to any of them.” A quick peek through the file tree and - there. “Bluebook’s reports on the... SAO subjects.” He swallowed. “I found the autopsy reports.”

“Skip those for now,” Klein said firmly, as Asuna winced. “We’re alive. Let’s stick to that.” He scowled. “Doc Fraiser said it was her call to move us. Anything in there back that up?”

Kirito stared at the screen as the next file opened, suddenly nerveless fingers paused over the keyboard. This couldn’t be real. _Please_. “I think so.”

_Help_.

* * *

It was like getting a ball of spiky ice shoved down the back of his neck.

_Klein_ help _everything’s wrong want to throw up_ -

Klein crossed the room without even thinking, planting one reassuring hand on the shoulder Asuna hadn’t latched onto. Because that weird feeling _was_ Kirito. He recognized the feel of it; like seeing the Black Swordsman’s silhouette in a darkened room, and knowing that graceful movement was an ally. “What the heck was that? I felt you....”

“Huh. So it’s specific.” Taking his place on watch at the door, Argo looked intrigued. “I didn’t feel anything this time.”

“This time?” Asuna glanced between them. “I thought I felt... it was like a whisper, just out of range. What’s wrong?”  

“Messaging works a little. I don’t know how.” Kirito shrugged. “I didn’t want to test it where they might see us get distracted.”

_We brought Sword Art Online out with us._ Klein shivered a little, remembering the mingled unease and outright glee he’d felt at Kirito’s simple, _“Scan works.”_

Because knowing how to use a katana? _Awesome_. Utterly. But he’d spent two years leveling up his Curved Swords know-how. Teach the brain, the body stood a chance of catching on. It was weird, but it wasn’t _impossible_.

_IMing works. Even if it’s just a little - how the hell did Kayaba do that?_

_...And Kirito’s avoiding the problem. Go figure_. “Yeah,” Klein agreed. “We need some space. Big-time. We were all spread over seventy-odd levels, and now six thousand of us are jammed in the same building. Bites.” Maybe not so much for the Japanese contingent of the survivors... nah. He’d seen Kirito adjust to Aincrad’s wide-open spaces. The Black Swordsman felt just as hemmed in as the rest of them. “So. What’d you find?”

Shivering a little, Kirito pointed to the document open on the screen. Complete with little pictures of DNA helices, and some funny light-and-dark banded pictures like ones Klein remembered seeing on detective shows. DNA fingerprinting, with captions that... whoa. No wonder Kirito was shaking.

“They think,” Kirito gulped, scanning the text again. “They think we have nonhuman DNA in us. That Kayaba... whatever he put in the NervGear, it didn’t just access our nervous system. It _genetically engineered_ us.”  

“Hair and eyes,” Klein stated, suddenly glad he’d never done that particular low-level quest. And what a shock that had been once the NervGear started coming off. Some hair that ended regular brown or black had long roots of silver, blue, pink; you name it. A lot of people had borrowed some of the scissors Argo had filched, either to cut a Gordian knot of incurable bed-head, or to trim off bits that just weren’t _them_ anymore.

A few of the nurses had tried to talk people out of that. Usually the ones who’d stared the most at people’s eyes. As if scissors would fix _that_.

Kirito shook his head. “I don’t think Bluebook even knew about that. They’re looking at... blood proteins, I think. Hormones. Antibodies. Ours - aren’t all human anymore.” He skimmed another page. “They identified at least three... levels of alterations. Low modification is almost normal human. Then there’s medium, and high-mod. Though a few months ago they suggested they should split those last two groups, and make five levels. There’s supposed to be a file of names in the appendix... damn it, Otherworld names-”

“Save a copy, we’ll sort it out later,” Argo said firmly. “ _Breathe_ , Ki-bou. We’re all in the same mess, ne?”

“Looks like it.” Kirito swallowed dryly. “All of us have been altered. _All_ of us.”

“They’re not protecting us from Kayaba.” Asuna ducked her head, chestnut touching black. “They’re protecting everyone else from us.”

“Yeah, well... they could be doing both.” Klein shifted, uncomfortable. “I was a Marine. We’re the good guys. If these guys are Air Force, and they know what’s in these files - yeah, they’re probably freaked out. But we’re awake now. We can talk to them.” _I hope_.

“This isn’t like talking Old Cat into listening to us,” Kirito grumbled.

“Maybe it is.” Argo waved a finger their way. “Just in reverse.”

Klein shared a blink with Kirito, and cast Argo a confused glance. “Rewind that?”

“They keep saying we were in comas,” Argo reminded them. “Means we weren’t moving, we weren’t talking. Ever since we’ve been here, we’ve been living furniture. Bodies to look after. Who needs to explain anything to bodies?” A flowing shrug. “Now we’re trying to shake some answers out of them. It’s got to be as freaky as one of the NPCs jumping up and trying to talk to us. And not one of the heavy-duty AIs like Old Cat. More like having a boss suddenly sit down and say, why don’t we work this out over tea and sweets?”

The room went silent, as everybody contemplated the utter weirdness of that idea.

“Damn,” Klein muttered. “That’d be a _fun_ gimmick fight.”

Asuna stifled a giggle, and shook her head. “All right. So Kayaba... changed us. We’re still _us_. We’ll talk to them.”

Kirito narrowed his eyes at the screen. “That’s not all he did.” His fingers hovered over the monitor, as he sounded out the odd word letter by letter. “Na-qua-dah... _naquadah?_ ” His left hand traced two familiar glyphs in the air; not quite kanji, but not quite anything else Klein had ever run into outside the game.

_Star-metal. Damn_. Klein rubbed his arms, chilled. “Isn’t that one of the mythic-level crafting metals for smiths?”

“It was a lot more than that in the Forerunner legends,” Argo said, half to herself. At Klein’s look, her whiskers flicked in a smile. “You know what it’s like. You read everything in Aincrad. You never know what might be important later.”

That, Klein knew, and sometimes you just got bored. He’d never realized how much he would miss picking up a newspaper for the sports pages until he’d gone cold turkey. It was almost as bad as the utter and complete lack of coffee. Decaffeinated Marines were _not_ a pretty sight, and decaffeinated paramedics were out-and-out _scary_ -

_Ooo. They’ve got coffee here, somewhere_.... Klein thumped himself on the forehead. _Focus_. “You read the Forerunner Legends? I just know a few of the glyphs.”

“Ki-bou and I did some code quests, a while back,” Argo shrugged. “A different branch of the Renegade Displacer quest tree.” Drawing her cloak a little closer around her, she said what they all were thinking. “Nice coincidence that Kayaba _just happened_ to make up the same term these people are using. Isn’t it.” She frowned. “From the rumors, if you mixed it with steel and a few other things, it’s durable as all hells. What did he use it for?”

Kirito scanned the text, black eyes cold as they’d been facing Laughing Coffin. “It’s in our nervous systems. Especially in our brains.”

“Aren’t metals in your brain a bad thing?” Asuna said in a small voice.

“Heavy metals, yeah,” Klein agreed, reading over their shoulders. “And this is... whoa. A really heavy metal.” He whistled. “Been a while since high school chemistry, but - that _can’t_ be right.”

“Assume it is,” Argo said flatly. “What is it?”

“Ah....” It’d been a _while_. But something about that listing of atomic weights pulled up a memory. “Super-heavy element,” Klein said, surprised. “Physicists smash atoms together and make bigger atoms. But I think this is bigger than anything I ever heard about-” He caught Kirito’s startled look. “What, you know physics?”

“No. Electronics,” Kirito said reluctantly. “But I’ve run across some listservs that mentioned super-heavy metals. Some people thought if we ever got one stable enough, you could make superconductors....” He trailed off, pale.

Klein shifted his shoulders, uneasy. _Oh, I really don’t like that look_.

A glance around the room told him nobody else did, either. Asuna broke the stalemate first, touching Kirito’s face in a silent _tell me_.

“You said once, the longer we were in Aincrad, the more it felt like we’d been born there, instead of this world,” Kirito said quietly. “I felt it too. Everything seemed to be brighter over time. More alive. This... it couldn’t have gotten into our brains in a hurry, could it?”

“No,” Argo answered, just as grim. “Heavy metals take time to build up. _Damn_ Kayaba.”

He needed to have a talk with his gut, Klein decided. It kept trying to sink down to his toes. “Clearers can move so fast, it’s like low-levels are standing still.”

Kirito nodded.

“But that’s in the game,” Klein argued. “There’s no computer reading us right now.”

“No. But....” Kirito shook himself, and inserted the flash drive Argo had swiped on their way in here. “Argo, do you know anyone who’s a doctor? A real doctor?”

“I’ll ask around,” the information broker stated. “In the meantime....”

“Get everything that looks important,” Asuna directed, evidently feeling time tick away just as fast as the rest of them. “We’ll sort out the details later. What else?”

Kirito was scanning what looked like the summary pages of a pile of reports. Hit one, and slowed to read more carefully. “This one is Dr. Fraiser’s. She’s summing things up for someone who isn’t a doctor-” He stopped. Backed up a page. Read it again. “She’s comparing us to a group of people called Jaffa, something called an _ashrak_ , and... something they’ve heard of, but never found. A _hok’taur_.”

“And now our nice, friendly doctor is throwing around terms in Yuan-ti,” Argo said darkly. “Just great. First one’s _assassin_. The second - _advanced human_.”

Asuna drew in a sharp breath. “That’s not good.”

Klein groaned. “If by _not good_ you meant _start of way too many horror movies,_ yeah.”

“She doesn’t go into specifics on what Jaffa can do.” Kirito was reading fast, eyes bouncing from line to line. “Whoever she’s writing this for must already know. Ashrak - she says they can be even stronger, since one... tore open a cell door to attack Major Carter.”

“Bluebook has enemies,” Argo concluded.

“And we look like the bad guys,” Klein muttered. “What else can go wrong?”

Kirito skipped down a few paragraphs. “It’s not just strength. She specifically mentions _reaction time_.” He glanced back at them. “She thinks the low-mod group isn’t that different from a normal human. But above that... she couldn’t test it while we were unconscious. But she believes we’re very. _Very_. Fast.”

Klein bit back a few choice curses. On the one hand, this could be good. A competent doctor looking after them was what they needed. On the other - if Bluebook was some kind of black op, and it was looking more and more like it had to be one....

_Thousands of civilians trapped in a death game. Doesn’t matter if the Air Force is the good guys. Governments are going to want somebody’s head on a pike. And if they can’t find Kayaba_ \- Klein winced. _Here we are. Foreign citizens, AWOL sailors and Marines - way too easy to make us disappear. Damn it, what the hell could have been so important the military went anywhere near Kayaba_ -

Kirito was leaning toward the screen, wide-eyed. “There’s a note here on how fast. ‘Think, toothed hummingbird on the Nox homeworld, General’.”

Klein’s train of thought screeched to a terrified halt. _Say what?_

“Homeworld?” Asuna got out, sounding as stunned as Klein felt. “That... can’t be what it sounds like....”

Kirito had at least five PDFs open at once, flipping between summaries. “The ashrak came off a world called Nasya. There’s some references to Jaffa endurance exercises ‘favored on Chulak’. Hok’taur rumor on Argos, connected to... System Lords using nanites to manipulate human evolution and create better hosts. Someone called the NID tried to isolate them from a blood sample, but it fell apart outside of a living circulation....” White-lipped, he pounded in a search.

“Hosts?” Klein exclaimed. “What is this, Invasion of the Body Snatchers?”

“Our bodies _did_ get snatched,” Argo reminded him. “Nanites. You know that word?”

“From science fiction,” Klein got out, head reeling. “Nanotechnology. Stuff that’s supposed to operate on the level of cells and... DNA. Oh, hell. Sci-fi writers use it for genetic engineering all the time, but - it’s fiction....”

“It was.” Kirito’s hand pulled back, as if he wanted to punch through the monitor. “There’s a memo about not bringing us too close to Cheyenne Mountain, because there’s no way to know exactly what the nanites have been programmed to do. _No current evidence for nanite reassembly in C. Fraiser, but given the estimated kiloton rating of a naquadah-phosphorus bomb, empirical experiments are ill-advised. Currently advisable to maintain a minimum safe distance of one thousand feet between C. Fraiser and_ -” Kirito inhaled sharply.

Klein stared at the familiar mineral-gray, symbol-carved ring in the picture. He’d seen it before. Lots of times. There was one in the middle of every town teleport plaza.

“The symbols,” Asuna breathed. “Those are....”

“The ones you see lock when you set a teleport crystal off,” Argo finished. “Seven chevrons. Seven symbols. Last one’s always unique. Matched to the closest town you’re coming from.” She pointed to a stylized pyramid-with-sun at the top of the screen. “I’ve only seen that one once. When we logged out.”

Asuna and Kirito both glanced at her. “There were symbols?” Kirito asked.

“Yeah, when we-” Klein stopped himself. “You didn’t think you were logging out, did you?”

Kirito looked away. Asuna’s face scrunched up, not quite crying. “We thought... we’d just shut down with the system....”

Kirito put an arm around her. She leaned into it, and took a deep breath. “C. Fraiser. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? If she had a bomb, and Dr. Fraiser’s taking care of her anyway - can we trust her?”

“We don’t know enough.” Argo looked like she’d been sucking umeboshi. “Did you find anything on the doctor besides her reports?”

“Trying not to trip flags.” Kirito focused on the screen. “This system’s meant for medical and science queries. Trying to get into personnel records might set off-” An unholy glee lit his face. “Hello, Colonel Jack O’Neill’s medical file.”

Klein rubbed his forehead, delighted and appalled. “Argo’s right. If they figure out you hacked their medical records-”

“They have to catch me first.” Kirito sent more information to the flash drive with a few keystrokes, then reopened some of the first files he’d looked at. “K’so. I read up on neurology when the NervGear first came out. I know some of these words.” He thumped a fist on the desk. “I just don’t know enough.”

Argo glanced at the clock. “Sooner or later somebody’s going to show up here. Klein? You’re the closest we’ve got to a military guy. What do you think?”

Klein swallowed dryly. “I hate to say it, but we need help,” he admitted. “It’s the Air Force. They should be the _good_ guys.”

“I hear a _but_ in there,” Kirito muttered.

Which would have been an okay but slightly weird phrase in Japanese, Klein reflected. Only it fit just fine in... whatever they were speaking. He was almost sure it was English, at the moment. Almost. “Yeah. But. I don’t know that much about how the JDF works, but the U.S. military runs on coffee and paperwork. There should be orders right by my bed; for me, and everyone else in Fuurinkazan. There should be paperwork saying we’re AWOL, or on involuntary medical leave, or _something_. Hell, there should have been a gunnery sergeant looming over my bed, tearing my head off about _where has your lazy ass been, Marine?_ ”

Damn. Just the thought made him feel a little homesick.

“Even if they were short of Gunnies, there should have been papers from Atsugi, transferring us here,” Klein got out. “That, and a number I could call for the current base commander. So I could check in and make sure that yes, Colonel Squinty-Eyes is your temporary commander, suck it up and deal, Marine. Even if they thought we were in comas, even if they thought we were _never_ waking up, those papers should have been there. Because we do _not_ leave our people behind.”

Asuna’s eyes narrowed. “And if Colonel O’Neill comes up with that paperwork?”

Damn. Damn, of _course_ the Knights’ Vice-Commander would think that through. As Klein could see Kirito hadn’t even thought about it, black eyes going wide and almost as young as they should be at the possibility that one of the few people the Black Swordsman could trust would get yanked right out from under him.

_Not happening_. “Then I tell him to shove it,” Klein said harshly. Which would destroy anything left of his career, and probably wreck large parts of his life, but... his family would understand. Heck, the Marines who’d trained him would understand.

_These are my people. I’m not leaving them_.

“So far, doesn’t look like we’ve got to worry about that,” Klein made himself go on. “We’re not even getting a phone call. And the only reason I can think of for that is... this place doesn’t exist. Officially.”

And he was not going to shiver at that. People needed him thinking, not reacting. And the Air Force _were_ the good guys. He hoped.

“Which fits, if they never told anybody they’re fighting aliens on other planets,” Argo stated. “And now they think we might be aliens. Worse, some kind of alien-human hybrid. I’ve seen those movies.” She flinched. “They usually have flamethrowers.”

“Let’s tell them we’re Ripley, not Sil,” Klein joked. Though damn, this was not funny. “Can you get outside this network? To the internet?”

Kirito waved a hand; _so-so_. “I’d set off security. Medical network, remember? Sending a message outside the country would definitely trip a flag-” He paused. Sat up straight, and paged back through what looked like part of someone’s email account.

Asuna covered a giggle with her hand. “I know you’re hungry. But pizza’s going to have to wait.”

“It’s not the pizza.” Kirito’s tone was low, black eyes lit with the determination of a man who’d spotted an opening. “It’s that they _ordered_ a pizza. To here, from town. This LAN can contact the internet, at least for close servers! And you said Agil-”

“Dicey Cafe,” Klein supplied, as Kirito brought up a search engine. “Look for proprietor Mills, Kasumi - yes!”

Kirito opened a message, typing out a few swift sentences. “Wish I could attach these files. But that probably would get caught - done.” He slumped back in the chair, breathing fast. “I hope she’s as quick as Agil.”

“And we should go,” Argo said under her breath. “Clear the cache, the cookies, close it down-”

“Yes, Auntie.” Kirito almost stuck his tongue out.

“Wait.” Asuna pointed toward a summary that was still open. “That says something about other subjects?”

“Animals, I think.” Kirito paged further into the report. “Some were in NervGear, some weren’t-” He stopped, as an image lit half the screen.

Klein’s jaw dropped. “Is that what I think it is?”

Kirito clicked that file to the flash drive, fast, and shut everything else down with controlled haste. “Klein, Asuna - run interference. Make sure they stay away from the basement. And tell Thinker we might not be able to be subtle. Argo-”

“Right with you.” The whiskered face lit with delight. “Let’s find Silica.”

* * *

“We’re going to the basement?” Voice barely above a whisper, Silica hid behind Kirito in a shadow of the stairwell. He glanced back in time to see her bite her lip, as a nurse in blue scrubs hurried right through where Argo had stood seconds before. “I don’t think they like us moving around at all,” she murmured as the nurse vanished. “Will they be okay with us going all the way down there?”

“I’m pretty sure they won’t be.” Kirito smirked, feeling the thrill of exploring a new and deadly level racing through his veins. “That’s the point.” He tried to tamp down the rush, and gave her a serious look. “We’re going down there to start trouble. I don’t want to hurt anyone if we don’t have to. But something’s wrong here. Something’s wrong with all of this, and they’re not giving us answers.” He drew in a sharp breath. “So we’re going to _take_ them.”

Silica gulped.

“You can back out,” Kirito said quietly, as Argo slipped back into view a flight down. “I think you could help us. I can’t tell you why, not yet - but we’re walking right into trouble. Maybe worse than Titan’s Hand. You don’t have to come.”

The beast tamer lifted her chin, ruby eyes fierce. “You know what I did after you helped us?”

“Ah....” Kirito shook his head. “I heard you were okay?”

“I went out as a quester.” She planted her hands on t-shirt and sheet-wrapped hips. “I didn’t want to get hurt, I didn’t want... Pina to get hurt again... but I asked people what you did as a solo. And that’s what you do. Go through quests to find clues to the bosses on the higher levels. So, I thought... the front lines were hitting a new level every few _weeks_. Maybe not all the quests got done. Maybe there were clues the clearers didn’t have time to find!” She stood straight, and gave him a nod. “Maybe I couldn’t catch up to the front lines. But I could still _help_.”

“And you did.” Argo’s smile was warm as sunlight. “She found some good info, Ki-bou. Filled in some key pieces for the boss fight on seventy-two.”

Silica grinned back, and gave him a look of _so there_. “If we need to start trouble, I’m coming.”

He nodded, warmed. “Right.”

_Here we go_.

* * *

“’Preciate the hand, Mr. Murray.” Rob Flint tucked a water bottle back into its holder, then backed away from the ash-ferret enclosure before he wriggled the fingers of his cast arm. “Kind of short on those at the moment - _damn_ it.” He hurried over to a ringing phone, fumbled the receiver off the cradle; cursed under his breath and lifted it to his ear. “ _Really_ bad time, whoever you are - hang on a minute, I got a hand full....” Almost dropping the handpiece again, he hit speaker.

“-tor Flint.” The man’s voice was concerned. Conciliatory. Teal’c disliked it immensely. “We haven’t heard from you in a while-”

“How about the far side of never?” the vet shot back. “Mr. Roth, right? Yeah, I remember you, and your greasy hair dye, and your Saville Row suits. You know they make you look like a stuffed turkey, right? With a little silk tie of giblets hanging down.”

Dead silence. Teal’c raised a startled brow. If this was indeed the Martin Roth he knew of, who carried out tasks for the official NID... interesting.

“...That’s no tone for a man in your position to take.”

“My _position?_ Oh, that’s rich, coming from one of the guys who blackmailed me out here in the middle of freezing nowhere in the first place,” Rob Flint bit out.

“I would hardly say-”

“Oh, excuse me, emphasized the _damages_ that would result from refusing a generous offer,” the vet cut him off. “News for you, asshole. I know you and your D.C. buddies have no clue what it’s like in flyover country, but Colorado judges kind of think a dad ought to have a chance to raise his own daughter. So I still have joint custody - no thanks to you, you prick - and the local IRS office got _real_ interested in the kinds of things you and your bosses have been leaving off your investment returns. You heard from them yet?”

Silence. Teal’c was certain he heard teeth grinding.

“Oh, you _did_ , didn’t you. Have fun with the audit, jackass.” Rob Flint’s grin turned feral. “And if you send any more of your goons to pick up my little Charity, the general’s lending me a squad of Marines to come knock down your door. So screw you and the Learjet you flew in on. I do not work for you. I will _never_ work for you. Or your buddies. Ever. Again.”

A long pause. “You’re swimming in very dangerous waters, Flint. The fate of our planet far outweighs one washed-up _veterinarian_.”

“The duty of the SGC,” Teal’c said deliberately, “is that it will, indeed, risk what it must to defend this planet. But its honor rests on an even nobler truth. The officers and personnel of the SGC hold all lives worth fighting for. Even those supposedly... powerless.”

A hiss of breath on the other end of the line. “Who is this? Flint, if you’ve breached Project security, even Hammond won’t be able to save you-”

“I believe your employers refer to me as Murray.” Teal’c smiled, just a little. Perhaps they were not on Chulak... but some enjoyment could still be had. “I would be most willing to relay the requests a civilian might have of Project Bluebook to the proper authorities. I am certain General Hammond would respond appropriately.”

It was hard for even Jaffa ears to make out, but Teal’c would have sworn he heard a pen snap.

“Like they say in L.A., _have a nice day_. Bye now.” Grinning, Rob Flint punched the phone off. “That? That was beautiful.”

It had, at least, been most entertaining. “Daniel Jackson has informed me that Los Angeles has some unique jargon,” Teal’c noted. “Your phrase, in particular, is considered... less than polite.”

“So, so true.” The vet was still grinning. “You going to tell the general about this now, or later?”

“Soon,” Teal’c acknowledged. “Would it not have been wiser to lead him on, and uncover what they might be planning?”

“What, and let ‘em know something was going on here?” Rob Flint waved it off. “Not a chance. I’m a _vet_ , not a spook. From Jersey. Can’t do the whole wilderness of mirrors schtick. Leave that to you guys.” He sobered. “’Sides, no offense, but I got my daughter to think about, you know? If they think I’m some loose cannon who hates their guts, they’ll go find some other guy to play with.” His face softened as he glanced back into the room. “Aww, poor baby....”

_“Chrrrl! Chirrr....”_

Teal’c stepped over to the aviary, where one determined sky-feathered creature was testing every hinge and wire it could hover near with claws and teeth. Systematically. “That one was within NervGear?”

“She was, with a couple others,” the vet nodded. “That cage was way too small to fly in, and you know they’re social. Really social, like parrots. So we moved them in with the rest of the flock.” He sighed. “Not sure that’s working out for her. She checked out the others a little, and nobody’s acting like they want to start a fight. But all she seems to want is out.” He shrugged. “Eh, it’s only been a few hours... what?”

Teal’c held up a hand for silence. There was... something. Not a sound. Not a scent. Only a surety, as Tekma’teh Bra’tac had, of a presence with the potential for violence. A presence that-

_Whatever I sense... senses me_.

“When honorable warriors recognize one another’s presence,” Teal’c called out, “it is reasonable for them to speak, to determine if there is true need for blood to be shed.”

“Blood? Shed?” Rob Flint’s voice rose, blue eyes wide as he stared at the door. “Whoa, wait a minute! Hanging up is one thing; if somebody got in here, we should be calling security-”

“We will not,” Teal’c said bluntly. “No one has gotten in, Rob Flint. And if there is no threat, there is no need to call security.”

One breath. Two.

The door opened.

Teal’c inclined his head. “Kirigaya Kazuto. Or do you prefer Kirito?”

“Murray.” The black-haired teen returned the honor. “Or would we be wrong to name you Teal’c?”

Ah. Asked and answered. “Teal’c is indeed preferable,” he allowed. “Do your companions wish to enter? I have been informed by the caretakers that certain creatures here are tropical, and sensitive to drafts.”

“Though just between you, me, and the wall, if those little flashy lizards buy it, so be it,” Rob Flint grumbled. “Those things try to stun you. Then they try to _eat_ you.”  

“Flashy....” Kirito stepped inside, followed by Argo and a young, red-eyed survivor Teal’c had not yet met. “You have basilisks?” His tone was wary. “Where are-”

_“Pina!”_

The young girl blurred across the room to the aviary, her hand pressed to double thicknesses of glass as a sky-blue dragon grasped the perch attached to the door. “Chrrrl!” The blue muzzle rubbed against the window. “Chrrrl! Chrrl!”

“Pina!” The rest was a confused babble Teal’c suspected even her fellow survivors might not have understood. But the essence was clear.

_I thought you were lost. I thought I’d never see you again_....

Argo was already studying the lock, fingers drifting a hair’s breadth away from the keypad.

“Um.” Rob Flint moved a little closer to Teal’c. “I know those sounds. Those are happy sounds. But shouldn’t we do something?”

They did, indeed, seem to be the sounds the dragons made when greeting other members of their flock. And the girl was chirruping back through her tears; drawing the curiosity of the rest of the winged beasts, even if they were cautious enough to avoid the door itself.

_Shrriiiip..._.

The vet blanched as Pina tore a strip of insulation off the edge of the door. “Oh boy. None of the others could pull that off-”

Argo’s fingers hovered over buttons, and stabbed down.

Gripping thinning blond hair, Rob Flint groaned. “Do I even want to know how you got that code?”

“I do not believe she did have it,” Teal’c mused. He had seen Samantha Carter and Daniel Jackson act in similar ways; drawing conclusions, then moving forward with their best guess. Yet he did not see anything Argo might have drawn a conclusion from. Intriguing.

As was the fact that while the lock was open, they had not yet opened the door. The young women were waiting, glancing from the barrier to himself, and then to Kirito. The swordsman stood some distance away, where he could watch the entry door; too far to move to defend the others if Teal’c had been bent on violence....

If he had been an ordinary Tau’ri, with ordinary reflexes.

_He is not_ , Teal’c realized. _And he is aware that he is not_.

He inclined his head to the swordsman, a fraction deeper; one skilled warrior to another. “I would never stand between a valiant warrior and her comrades.”

“Whoa, wait - let me in there, okay?” Rob Flint objected, scrambling over to the door. “You let all those guys loose, we’ll be trying to catch them all day. And they’ll be laughing at us. Let me help.”

Crimson eyes were wide with hope and fear. “You want to help?”

The vet snorted. “Hey, I’ve been at this a while. I know _my human_ when I see it. Easy now, little lady. Just let me open the door a little....”

Pina dove out as soon as the door opened a few inches, landing in the girl’s welcoming arms; sniffing her hands and neck, before rubbing her forehead against the human’s with a near-purr.

“You found her.” Eyes still wet, the girl glanced at Kirito, stroking under Pina’s jaw and along her neck. The dragon’s long blue tail feathers waved in joy. “You brought her back again.”

“Heh.” Kirito scratched the back of his head, and nodded toward the aviary. “Look at that door. I think she’d have found you sooner or later.”

“And how,” Rob Flint muttered. Finished locking up, and craned his head to look at the dragon. “Pina, huh? You two know each other? Don’t get me wrong, I can see you do, but - how?”

“I had peanuts.” The girl wiped her eyes. “Do you have any peanuts?”

“What, are you kidding?” The vet winked at her, and dug into one of the feed lockers for a small plastic bag. “With a whole flock of these guys? Of course I’ve got peanuts. Here-”

Kirito caught the bag, Argo fading back to guard the door.

“How did... um. Wow.” Rob Flint stood still, making no movement that could be construed as a threat. “Keep forgetting how fast you move.”

Kirito gave him a faint smile, turning plastic in his hands to look it over, even sniff it, before he handed it to the girl.

The vet _hmph_ ed, crossing his whole arm over the casted one. “Okay, now I have to say I am offended. I am a _vet_. I don’t give critters food that would hurt them. Not even people-gnawing basilisks.”

The girl reddened, but didn’t look away. Kirito didn’t even blink. “It’s not personal,” the swordsman said plainly. “There were poisons in the game. Some were lethal. Some were just paralytic. You learned to be careful.” He lifted a shoulder, let it fall. “Silica? I think they’re okay.”

The girl nodded, tearing a corner off the bag. Took out and ate one herself, before offering any to her companion.

Teal’c drew a quiet breath, considering the implications. _She risks the same fate as her dragon_.

A tactic that could be lethal, where food had been accidentally poisoned. The risk Silica took would only save them if....

_If someone knew the food had been poisoned_ , Teal’c reluctantly finished the thought. _And thought twice of harming a human, where they would not hesitate to slay a creature_.

_There were poisoners in Kayaba’s game_.

Teal’c was not entirely surprised. Stargate teams had been poisoned before. A simulated poisoning would be a legitimate training hazard. But the point of training was to _train_. Even young Jaffa used intars, inflicting pain and unconsciousness rather than death. Only in the final exercises did the blood become real.

O’Neill was correct. They needed to handle the survivors with utmost care. To have others you wished to rely on turn on you....

_They have been betrayed. We must_ earn _their trust_.

“As for how,” Kirito glanced at the aviary, then around at the other cages and enclosures. “There were rare events in the game. You could never predict it. But sometimes a creature would approach you, and not attack. If you fed it food it liked, it might stay.”

“In the game,” Rob Flint said blankly. Shot a look at Teal’c. “I thought everybody said it was some kind of terraforming program running in the gear?”

“It would seem we were deliberately misled,” Teal’c admitted. “The computer technicians could not access Kayaba’s programs while they ran. Now that they have ended, more information has become available.”

Kirito’s gaze was fathomless black. “What kind of information?”

Ah. This was about to become more difficult.

It was fortunate, Teal’c mused, that he knew the limits of O’Neill’s patience. Or lack thereof.

* * *

“Where the heck is he?” Jack asked the ward at large, looking for long black hair.

Janet didn’t glance up from applying a bandage to a wide-eyed boy’s scraped knee, cutting off threatening tears and babble about safe zones with one wave of a wrapped lime-green Lifesaver. Lucky kid. “If I had to guess, Colonel, I’d say Murray is still downstairs. He likes the company.”

Okay, ow, that was Doc giving him a bit of cold shoulder. Which went along with what he’d gotten from eavesdropping on her brief follow-up with the general.

_“Colonel O’Neill has repeatedly ignored invitations to pun, and accrued multiple counts of Tempting Murphy. Mandatory R &R recommended _immediately _. Before he tempts Murphy_ again _.”_

Hmph. Like he didn’t know when he needed a break. Even if he had, this mess was way too big to take time off now. Six-thousand-odd confused survivors; they needed somebody to be the face of the SGC. And it had to be somebody they could yell and get mad at, who wouldn’t take it personally, so that Janet and her staff could do their jobs and take care of the biological wreckage Kayaba had left behind.

“Not Murray,” Jack grumbled, checking on the rest of his team. That flash of tied-back red hair was one over-ambitious Marine trying to chat Sam up for a date. Daniel had cornered Mills and another pair, one silver-haired young woman and a curly-headed guy with a bemused look, probably asking them awesome anthropological questions about what a merchant did in Kayaba’s world. And Asuna had claimed her own corner with a bunch of serious-looking gamers, including one pretty young lady with pink, blue, and purple hair. Jack hadn’t gotten close enough to eavesdrop - well, much - but he’d heard _Commander_ and _Heathcliff_ in there. And he knew the body language of subordinates reforming around a 2IC pretty well by now.

A seventeen-year-old girl was rebuilding her command structure. He didn’t know whether to snicker or be sweating bullets.

Though given how many other people had strolled in here to visit, with matter-of-fact poses that said _allied but not under your command_ , he was leaning toward worried.

Then again, maybe he really ought to be worried about the fact a few of Janet’s nurses had volunteered needles and thread. Sharp pointy things. In civilian hands. Granted, currently in the hands of busy little bees stripping down scrubs and sheets and who knew what and piecing them back together into neat little tunics and other stuff that actually fit.

Though on the _other_ other hand, he could see morale going up with the new clothes, and Danny’d always said dress was part of culture and self-image, and Jack knew damn well himself that denying somebody basic body-coverage was one of the fastest ways to get someone cowering as a prisoner. So the needles ought to stay. For now.

What was _really_ interesting was, the bunch of seamstresses and seamsters weren’t just handing out clothes. There was bartering going on over there, keen as anything he’d ever overheard in a bazaar. Everything from bits of gossip to odd colored paper sculptures to raw materials scrounged out of care packages to help unpicking seams. One way or another, people were getting paid. Not much, and sometimes there were IOUs being written up - but that was trade, not charity.

_Note to self, make sure anthropologist doesn’t try to replace all the blood in his caffeine system. He’s going to be busy_.

Daniel glanced his way, and brightened. “Jack! Over here.”

Ooo, this promised to be interesting. “Danny,” Jack nodded, moseying up to the four of them. “Mills I know, you are...?”

“The leaders of the Aincrad Liberation Force,” Daniel supplied. “Thinker and Yulier. They were... volunteer constables, kind of?”

Well, _huh_. “You were cops?” Jack raised a brow.

“Kind of more heavily armed peacekeepers,” Mills shrugged.

“Sometimes,” Thinker said sheepishly. “We started out trying to clear the game, but after the twenty-fifth level... well, that went really wrong. After that we mostly tried to keep some order on the lower levels, and look after anyone too traumatized to function.”

“A lot of people had breakdowns after Kayaba’s announcement,” Yulier nodded. “Sometimes, if you could just get them somewhere safe, they’d snap out of it.” She looked around the room. “I hope we can do that again. We managed to survive this far. I don’t want to see anyone else jump.”  

“Jump?” Jack said carefully. He’d seen a few people Janet had sedated already. Evidently looking at things that weren’t made out of pixels was scaring some people.

“Yeah,” Mills said shortly. “Kayaba left a railing at the edge of each level. Some people climbed it.” His face closed up, stormy with dark memories.

_Jump_. Jack blinked; remembering images of despairing faces, falling. And if you died in the game... oh, hell.

_Okay. Bad memories. Let’s switch topics_. “Aren’t you the lady who went Indiana Jones on some spiky-haired guy with an electrical cord?”

“Kibaou deserved it.” Yulier looked calm, demure, and not at all shy about doing it again if she had to. “He’s a good fighter in a tight spot, and he’s very persuasive. But he has a habit of getting in over his head and taking down everyone else around him when things don’t work out. Early in the game, he almost got some beta-testers killed-”

“Yeah,” Mills cut her off. “Kibaou was on his way toward drumming up a mob. Torches, pitchforks, the whole works. That was ugly.”

Jack gave him a casual look. “Take it you did something about that.”

“Tried,” the merchant admitted. “Managed to head him off the first time. Second time... somebody else did. But it cost them.” He grimaced. “Kibaou’s a grade-A rabble-rouser. Keep an eye on him. And maybe a gag.”

“We thought he’d learned his lesson,” Yulier said sadly.

“I thought he’d learned his lesson.” Thinker admitted. “I should have listened to you.” He scratched wild hair. “Let’s just say, getting trapped unarmed in a dungeon for two days was not a good time. If Yulier hadn’t found some clearers to come get me....” He shook his head.

“Clearers?” Daniel jumped in. “Asuna said most of the clearers knew each other. What’s a clearer?”

For a moment three people were blinking at them, with the kind of look Jack recognized from pilots who’d just realized most people thought _flaps_ came with the word _mud_ in front. Or stunned particle physicists forced to explain what a hadron was, and why any sane man would want to collide it with anything.

Yulier pulled it together first. “They’re front-line players, like Agil. People who meant to clear the game, so we could all go home.”

“Kind of fell into it,” Mills grinned. “I showed up for the first level boss fight and stayed in one piece. Turned out I had a knack for it.”

“Thought you were a merchant,” Jack commented.

“Not the first time I’ve held down two jobs,” Mills shrugged. “Besides. Can’t be a merchant without something to sell. On the lowest levels, that meant you had to go adventure and get it.” He chuckled. “The good blacksmiths swing a _mean_ mace.” He cracked his knuckles, and nodded toward the ALF leaders. “So. You want to keep people calm, these two are a good place to start. How many people did you have, over two thousand?”

“Something like,” Thinker nodded. “Most were just affiliate members, but... Colonel?”

Jack reminded himself not to catch flies. A guy who looked about as command-ready as - oh, say, Daniel - had managed to keep two thousand game players aimed more or less the same direction, without _any_ official backing? _Huh_. “How’d you pull that off?”

“Well, I used to run an MMO ‘zine,” Thinker shrugged, self-conscious. “Head off enough Godwin’s Law in the discussions of hacking philosophy on the boards, and you learn how to get people working together. Mostly.”

Godwin’s Law. Did anybody speak English here? “Hacking philosophy?” Jack said skeptically. “Hackers have philosophy? Isn’t that kind of like bank robbers reading up on economics?”

“...Not exactly.” Mills gave him a look askance.

Whoof. Was it him, or had the temperature in here dropped like an iceberg?

“It was an online game, Colonel O’Neill.” Yulier was silk over steel, silver-rooted hair neatly swept back from her face. “Everyone had to be somewhat computer literate. Most of us were much more than that.”

“Thankfully.” Thinker faced him directly. “The bosses on the first levels were mostly combat-oriented. But after level nine - the gimmicks started getting a lot tougher. If you didn’t have at least one person who could program, it could get... tricky.”

“You had to program in the game.” Jack gave all three of them a sidelong look. “What for? Swords, monsters, whack. Simple.”

Yulier looked politely taken aback. Thinker’s expression was much easier to read. _Oh, look! A Martian!_

The guild leader’s shrug seemed friendly enough, though. “You don’t spend much time on computer games?”

“Not really my thing,” Jack said wryly. “Played a few. You level up, you beat the bad guys - what’s to know?”

“MMOs are... a little more complicated,” Thinker said carefully.

“Complicated how?” Jack shrugged. “The whole point of the game was the monsters acted like they were real, right? Hit anything hard enough, it’ll go down.”

From the polite mask Yulier’s face froze into, _she_ didn’t think so.

Even Thinker’s good humor seemed to slip. “Oh,” he said thoughtfully. “Leeroy Jenkins.”

Silence rippled outward through the ward. Jack caught darting glances, the way people followed Thinker’s gaze and stance and _looked_.

Conversations started up again, but it looked like the damage had been done.

_What the heck just happened?_

Though on the gut-level where Jack commanded, he _knew_ what had just happened. Two words, and Thinker had both affirmed his status as a leader qualified to make decisions for the whole Aincrad Liberation Force, and identified one particular colonel as _dangerous_.

_So what’d he say, and why did it work?_ “Somebody you lost in the game?” Jack said casually.

“He was never in SAO. Lucky for him.” Thinker’s smile was just a little crooked. “Try searching online. You’ll find him. People like him... we lost most of them in the first month. Fortunately. If you’ll excuse us, I want to go check on some of the younger affiliates.... ”

Jack closed ranks with Daniel as the gamers peeled off, tilted his head toward Janet so they headed back that way. Frazzled as the doc looked, she might appreciate some backup. “What the heck did he just do?”

“Told everybody that you’re not the boss of him,” his archaeologist said under his breath. “Jack. It sounds like the game was way more complicated than killing monsters. We need more information before we tell them how simple it was.”

“So they had bits where they talked to things in the game,” Jack said, just as quiet. “Still doesn’t change the laws of physics-”

“Says the guy who snickered when Iron Man blew through an F-15 without even _bruises_.”

Right. Not going there. “Game or no game,” Jack stated. “Sharp and pointy hits flesh, even computer flesh, bad guy goes down. We saw that.”

“We saw what the guy who sent that message _wanted_ us to see.” Blue eyes were dark, worried. “Video editing, Jack. How much _didn’t_ we see?” He smiled at their redheaded Napoleon. “Everything going okay?”

“Mostly. Though I’d appreciate it if we end up snatching a few more orderlies from the teaching hospital.” Janet gave Jack a look. “Did you find him?”

Jack scanned the room again, shaking his head. “Darn little black ghost....”

_Wait. Look again_.

Asuna was still in a corner with other people, shoulders relaxing as her knights starting breaking up into smaller conversations. But not relaxing all the way; which made sense, there was no gray-and-black shadow glued to her-

_He’s not with Asuna. And she’s being present and obvious and_ distracting. _Son of a... he’s gone again. Damn it. Bells. Going to tie bells on him. And maybe get those APs in here anyway. Or line the corridors with infrared beams and tiger pits_....

Wait. He was going about this the wrong way. Sure, Kazuto was a teenage guy, with all the ingrained _can’t-tell_ -me- _what-to-do_ of the age bracket. But kids were more than just their age, and you forgot that at your own risk. “Hey, Doc. Kazuto reminds you of Danny too, huh?”

“Hey!” his archaeologist protested.

“Kirito does, yes. More than I think you know.” Janet finished smoothing down brown plastic, and winked at her patient. The boy smiled shyly back, then dashed off to the freckled brunette university student who’d apparently taken the very young kids under her wing. “I only met you after the colonel brought you back from Abydos, Daniel. I thought some of your reactions were a little odd, but I didn’t have any context for them until after we dealt with a few more refugee groups.” She nodded toward the players in general. “Reverse culture shock.”

“But that... oh.” Daniel frowned, tugging at one earpiece of his glasses. “Actually, that makes sense.”

Jacke eyed both of them. “Reverse what?”

“We seem strange to them,” Janet filled him in. “And it’s worse because they know we shouldn’t be strange. It’s going to take them a while to stop being startled.”

Interesting. But not quite what he’d been getting at. “I mean, Kazuto reminds me of you specifically, Danny,” Jack clarified, wriggling his fingers in air a bit to mimic tentacles. “And there are two things we can count on you for. One - you’ll talk to anybody.”

“Um, kind of my job, yeah....” Daniel said warily.

“Two?” Jack sighed. “If there’s trouble within twelve parsecs, you’ll find it.” He glanced around the room again, noting how Asuna was keeping an eye on him, without really looking like she was. Much. Not a bad job for a kid her age. “People. I’m going to assume he didn’t get out of the building without setting off an alarm.” Because if Kazuto had, he and Security were going to have a _long_ talk. “So. If he didn’t - where’s the one spot in this mess someone like you could find the most trouble?”

Startled, Daniel and Janet exchanged a speaking look. And almost as one, glanced down toward the basement.

Despite himself, Jack grinned. Damn, the kid had guts. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

* * *

Walking in on a red-eyed kid grooming her pet dragon wasn’t the worst shock Jack had had in his life. Though it definitely ranked up there with the interesting ones, given Kazuto and Teal’c were involved in a mutually low-key stare-down, with Flint hanging out of the way at his desk with the girl, going over a three-ring binder labeled _Dragons, Care and Feeding of_.

Teal’c inclined his head. “O’Neill.”

Damn, it was good to work with an old soldier. _No one’s hurt_ , that even tone said. _Don’t think anyone will be, so long as we all keep our heads. Situation under control. Mostly. You’re the commanding officer present, feel free to take over_.

Right. So, one breath to get his bearings-

“Silica. Pina.” Black eyes were almost calm, as Kazuto twirled a pen between his fingers. But there was a devilish glint to them that had Jack wanting to check for whoopee cushions. “I’d like you to meet Colonel Jonathon O’Neill, of Stargate Command.”

...Which just went to show that even Teal’c could get blindsided.

The daredevil glint grew just a little brighter. “How’s the weather in Antarctica, this time of year?”

_Oh, hell_.

_Stargate Command_ could have come from anyone’s loose lips. Antarctica? Not something people in this building should know.

_And Kazuto knows it_.

“I’m guessing chilly,” Jack said casually, heading for Flint’s desk. And the intercom by his desk. Teal’c might think they could still rescue this mess, but Jack was already regretting leaving Danny and Sam to distract the kids. “Look, Kazuto. We don’t talk about it much, but the Air Force does station people at the bottom of the world. Mostly to yank scientists out of trouble. So let’s just-”

Streak of green light.

A small, contained _boom_.

Jack held still, hand poised over where the intercom had been. Where pieces of it still were, shattered apart with a stink of fried ink and a tiny brass spring still flexing in the middle of it.

_Retractable pen spring_ , part of Jack’s mind pointed out helpfully. He’d taken apart enough dead pens in meetings to know.

The rest of him was calculating the fact that Silica - _tiny_ little Silica - had yanked Flint out of the line of fire, her dragon taking to the air to watch them both. And the minor little detail that he _and Teal’c_ hadn’t even seen Kazuto _move_.

Janet was right. Very, _very_ fast.

Okay. One pushy kid had just officially hit the limits of allowable teenage crankiness. “Lose the attitude,” Jack said sternly. “If I have to call security down here,” he let his gaze flick toward Silica; no way was a teenage guy who thought he was a hero going to let a _girl_ get mixed up in this, “somebody’s going to get in trouble.”

Silica’s shriek almost shattered his eardrums.

_Oh hell. She’s got scissors_.

Japanese wasn’t exactly his speed, but he knew Abydonian well enough to pick out her garbled _Kill you!_ and _Never!_

Flint had a hand on her shoulder, talking fast. Something about _Pina_ and _through me first_. Brave, but clueless. It might be keeping her from coming from Jack’s throat right now, but given how she’d just yanked Flint around like a feather pillow....

And the whole thing just made no sense. Little girls didn’t attack grown men.

Teal’c looked... annoyed. And suddenly less than convinced everything was going to end well. Which might have something to do with the fact that Kazuto had at least one more pen, twisting between his fingers. Joy.

“Trouble is the least of our worries, Colonel. As you already know.” Twist and flip. The pen looked so casual, black ink in clear plastic with a brassy tip. “Silica. He won’t hurt Pina. We won’t let him.”

It was the way Kazuto said it that put the hairs up on Jack’s neck. Not hopeful. Not determined. Not even reassuring, the way a kid his age should try to be for a kid her age. Just plain, simple fact.

_They’re worried about me hurting the feather duster? Come on. What kind of vicious bastard would hurt a little girl’s pet dragon..._.

Memory flung up a maniacal, cackling face, as a helpless man shattered.

_Yeah. That kind_.

He was facing down a pair of kids who thought _he_ could be that kind of evil. That was just... wrong.

Also stupid, on their part. A guy who’d hurt a pet likely wouldn’t stop at hurting a child. And these two had been caught in Kayaba’s little death game. They should definitely know better.

“O’Neill.” Teal’c crossed his arms, the picture of strained Jaffa patience. “Did you pass Argo in the hall?”

Argo? He hadn’t seen-

_Oh. Damn_.

Part of him was still insisting this was impossible. Kids strayed into places they shouldn’t all the time. And kids would go to crazy lengths to defend their pets. He should know. Kids did _not_ set up a multi-part distract-and-ambush to lure their chief opponent away and cut him off from reinforcements.

Except from what Teal’c was carefully not saying, that was exactly what the Jaffa thought they’d done.

Making no sudden moves, Jack raised an eyebrow.

Asuna’s wide-eyed, innocent boyfriend was neither wide-eyed nor innocent now. He met Jack’s gaze with a level look the colonel knew very, very well. Just, not from this side of it.

_Right here, right now, I know exactly how to kill you_ , deadly calm eyes made clear. _Are you going to make me use that?_

“You were never stationed in Antarctica,” Kazuto said bluntly. “What do you want from us?”

Teal’c raised a hairless brow. _Take this seriously_.

Huh. Teal’c did not do that lightly. Not even for kids.

So Jack thought twice, and toned his snarking down a little. “What I want,” he said deliberately, “is to figure out why the hell Kayaba killed almost four thousand people. And where the hell he is, so my team can explain to him that we kind of object to this little thing called _murder_. If we catch him here in America, he’s toast.”

Teal’c arched the brow a little higher.

_What, more?_

Then again, the little pen-slinger was young, not stupid. He had to know what he’d just done was flashy. “And we want to know what he did to you,” Jack added grimly. “And why. You?”

“We want to go home to our families.” Kazuto nodded toward Silica and the blue fluffy, not taking his eyes off Jack. “ _With_ our families.”

Oh, no way. That was an alien. An _obvious_ alien. They’d let dragons fly loose in public the day they let Teal’c take off his hat.

So. Not happening. And the first step in getting a couple stubborn kids to accept that was getting that dragon back in the cage-

Teal’c glanced at the vet. “Rob Flint. I believe it would be useful to show Colonel O’Neill the door.”

“The door?” Flint said blankly. Followed Teal’c’s gaze to the aviary, and almost whistled. “Oh. _That_ door. Yeah. Good idea. Colonel? You want a look at Exhibit A.”

Uh-huh. It was probably fifty-fifty odds that Kazuto would split while his back was turned. But if Teal’c thought he should see it, he’d catch the kids later- _whoa_.

Scarring inside the door. Some of the glass was scored with long, pale scratches. A long strip of insulation was dangling loose, serving as other dragons’ new tug-toy. “I thought this place was built to hold them,” Jack stated, deliberately calm.

“It _was_.” Flint pointed to empty cages along the far wall, near a kennel that held wolfish shadows with bright amber eyes. “Pina was one of the animals in NervGear.”

What did that have to do with- Oh. Oh, hell.

“I can’t hold her here,” Flint said emphatically, voice low. “Not without a few layers of sheet steel, which currently I do not have, thank you. You’ve never been down here, I know you don’t know this - but these dragons live in flocks. Like dogs, in packs. Pina thinks Silica is her flock, okay? She is _not_ going to stay locked up somewhere else. If we make her break out of somewhere, she could hurt herself. Nobody wants that, right?” He nodded toward the kids. “C’mon, be honest. They’re not going anywhere until you figure this whole NervGear stuff out. You know it. I know it. _They_ know it. So let Silica give me a hand. It’ll be good for them.”

Jack cast a pointed look at tinted plaster. “Right. Because that’s worked out so well already.”

“Mostly, yeah,” Flint said firmly. “The guy who flailed at me woke up scared and confused. So did Pina. But when I put her in with the flock, you know what happened? _Nothing_.”

Jack gave him a _look_.

“I kid you not,” Flint nodded. “No fights. No injuries. She sniffed them over, they sniffed her over, everybody was cool. Only Pina was sad. Because her human wasn’t here. She didn’t start shredding stuff until a few minutes before they showed up. My guess? She heard her people coming.”

“Her people?” Jack said pointedly.

“She knows Kirito and Argo,” Flint obliged. “They’re not hers the way Silica is, but Pina definitely knows ‘em. Sniffed them to be sure, though why that should work....”

“The NervGear replicated scents, too.”

Jack cocked a loaded eyebrow at their wandering swordsman. Who had just made it clear he could hear at least as well as Teal’c, listening in on a conversation halfway across a big room full of squeaking, trilling cages. “Seriously? You could smell yourself in there?”

“If you didn’t take a bath once in a while.” Kazuto’s nose crinkled, as if at an incredibly cruddy memory. “After a day in the swamps, you really wanted to get back to town.”

Jack had done most of his fighting in desert and dry, but - oh yeah. He’d hit enough swamps offworld to know exactly what the kid was talking about.

_SGC training scenarios. What if he’s been in some of those swamps?_

Ooof. There was an ugly thought.

Almost as ugly as whatever was lurking behind black eyes. Damn it, Jack didn’t want to fight the kid. Nobody should be fighting somebody that young in the first place. And Kazuto wasn’t helpless, the last guy who’d gone after him had ended up skewered-

_Oh. Jack, you are an idiot_.

Now he really wished Daniel was here. Doing the right thing without letting anything slip about Kayaba’s little love letter would be tricky. “Okay, Doc Flint’s got a point,” Jack allowed, looking at Silica. “But he’s a vet, and you’re not, and we don’t know much about your little friend. So listen to the animal doc. And don’t take her outside. Got that?”

Silica nodded, one hand reaching up to coax the dragon into landing on her shoulder. Pina nestled into brown hair, but kept a watchful eye on him. “I understand.”

“Outside of that, it’s been a long day for everybody,” Jack shrugged. “We should get some rest.” He tried not to glance too obviously at Kazuto. _Come on, kid. Talk to me_.

“You said, _Kayaba_ killed four thousand people.” Black eyes were opaque.

_Oof. This could get ugly_.

Between Kayaba’s gift videos and that near-stampede to get orange players away from everybody else, it looked like the survivors blamed Kayaba for the _monsters_.

But they knew damn well, not everybody had been killed by monsters.

“Kayaba’s equipment killed four thousand people,” Jack stated. “We know how. We don’t know why.” _Not so it’d hold up in a court of law, anyway. Gloating videos about killing people because they lost a_ game - _yeah, love to see a judge take that as probable cause_.

The teen’s eyes seemed to get even darker. “How did they die?”

_Nanites run amok. Not telling you that_. “It was death. It’s ugly. It’s over-”

That fast, Pina was in the air again. And he was being stared at, by two kids who knew way too much about sharp pointy things. “Okay,” Jack drew out the word. “What’d I say?”

Though damn it, he was pretty sure he knew. Kayaba had told them in his little intro that he’d shut their hearts and lungs down. Which was _not_ what had happened-

_Kazuto knew how it could work_ , Jack realized. _A fourteen-year-old kid_ knew _how Kayaba could kill them._

_How the hell did he know that?_

“We assisted Janet Fraiser in her attempts to save the latest victims,” Teal’c said levelly. “Their manner of death was unique. Janet Fraiser informs me this cause of death has only been seen in cases where Kayaba’s NervGear was running the SAO program.” He arched one shaved brow; serious, yet unthreatening interest. “You do not simply blame Kayaba.”

Deliberately, Kazuto shook his head.

Teal’c nodded gravely. “Who else do you hold responsible?”

Oh, _this_ was going to be interesting.

“Kayaba set the NervGear to kill anyone who died in the game.” Kazuto’s gaze didn’t falter; and the guts it took to pull that off, Jack knew only too well. “But it wasn’t just monsters and traps that killed people. What will you do with the player-killers?”

Damn good question. From a kid who had a vested interest in the answer.

_He’s sixteen, he was trapped, and maybe - just maybe - Kayaba made it look like he’d killed his girlfriend right in front of him. He had nothing left to lose. And now he does_.

“Tricky,” Jack allowed. “Right now, all we’ve got is hearsay about what happened. Heck, all we’ve got is people’s word that anything _happened_ , period. Maybe that’ll change later when we crack more information out of the program. For now Janet’s shuffling people into different wards so we can clear one out for the guys who got tied up. We _do not know_ what they did. Or didn’t do. Rest of you don’t want to deal with them? Fine. We’ll keep them away from you. And we’ll keep you away from _them_. One guy’s murder can be another guy’s self-defense. I want _facts_.” He crossed his arms, determined not to budge on this. “I’ve seen mobs. That is not happening here.”

From the way Kazuto’s gaze flickered at _mobs_ , he’d seen them happen in the game. Huh; so had he run into Kibaou’s handiwork, like Mills had described, or had there been some other rabble-rouser-

_Kibaou tried to get beta-testers killed. And Kazuto was in the beta_.

One plus one did not necessarily equal two. There’d been a thousand beta-testers to start, if Janet’s numbers were right. What were the odds Kazuto had wound up Kibaou’s target?

_Except Kazuto knows Mills. So maybe better than average_ , Jack judged, as the kid glanced at Silica and the girl called her dragon back with a chirp. _That wasn’t a guilty flinch, so he wasn’t part of a mob. Given mobs don’t leave bystanders - that means target._

Man, no wonder the kid looked spooked. Anyone who’d survived a mob tended to be traumatized for life.

_Funny thing is, he looks like he’s trying to get over it. He_ wants _to believe it won’t happen here_.

Wanted to, even though the careful neutrality of the kid’s face said he _didn’t_ believe a word of it. Which was just wrong. No teenager should automatically assume adults were lying-

_Players_ , a voice gloated in Jack’s memory, _welcome to my world_.

-Except Kayaba had pulled them into the biggest lie of all: that Sword Art Online was just a game.

_And then it killed them_.

Jack still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He wasn’t sure anyone could, even the general. That something meant to be a training aid had turned into a two-year-long murder spree - it didn’t seem real.

Yet Silica hadn’t said a word when Kazuto had mentioned player-killers. She was just standing there, cuddling her purring dragon, as if she thought anything she might say could only make things worse.

_And that means... damn. She_ knows _people killed each other._

_But she still trusts him. Heck, she thinks he’s the nicest guy in the room_.

Which implied the girl was either hopelessly blind, or too scarily perceptive for her own good. He and Teal’c were good guys. Nice? Not so much.

Pina yawned, flashing sharp little fangs. Silica tried to cover her own with her hand, looking sheepish.

“Bed sounds good,” Flint nodded.

“Indeed. Yet there is one question I would ask.” Teal’c arched a brow at Kazuto. “How is it that you know of Antarctica?”

“What is Stargate Command?” Kazuto countered. “Who do you answer to? Why are we _here?_ ”

Kid sure knew how to haggle. “You’ve got a Marine,” Jack said casually. “He can tell you everybody answers to the Pentagon, and they answer to Congress.”

“Klein was a Marine.” Black eyes didn’t give an inch. “And he has no idea who you are.”

There was no such thing as a _former_ Marine. Looked like they were going to have to remind Corporal Tsuboi of that.

But damn. They needed to know who’d leaked the info on Antarctica. He gave Teal’c a quirk of brows. _Tell ‘em as little as you can get away with_.

“Stargate Command is led by General Hammond, of Texas,” Teal’c stated. “I have served under General Hammond and Colonel O’Neill for some years, since I left the service of the SGC’s enemies.” He looked at Jack. “I had resigned myself to a life that would do the least harm to the greatest number. O’Neill had a different proposal.”

_Whoof. Way to set the bar high, T_. And damn it, thin on facts or not, that was more than he’d wanted them to know....

Only for Kazuto’s stillness, it might have been just enough.

The teenager took a deep breath, and headed for the door, Silica falling in behind him. “Hey!” Jack objected.

In the doorway, Kazuto gave him a deliberate glance back. “Your computer security? Isn’t.”  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alien-human hybrids - referring to Ripley from the movie “Alien: Resurrection”, and Sil from “Species”. Big difference. _Huge._
> 
> “Five groups” roughly: Levels 1-20 “athletic human”. 20-30, martial artist to Olympic level. 30-50 “James Bond”, low-level supernatural abilities. 50-70 “legends”. 70+ = “mythic heroes”. In GURPS terms, 400+ point characters.
> 
> Note that Teal’c is probably about level 60; he _is_ a Jaffa legend. (So is Bra’tac, even if he’s slowing down some.) I think Goa’uld have about level 70 strength, but they don’t have fast reaction times.
> 
> The classic Leeroy Jenkins response to people being upset by their stunts is, “Dude, chill, it’s just a _game._ ” Which is what Jack ended up implying to Thinker. Ouch.


	5. Brainstorming and Boss Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SG-1 tosses ideas on What To Do With This Mess. 
> 
> (Jack's hoping Teal'c comes up with something, 'cause right now he's feeling distinctly in need of a rescue....)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be the last chapter for a bit; I have notes for chapter 6, but right now editing _Seeds of Blood_ is taking up all my writing time. Drat. 
> 
> Hoping that will ease up in a month or so.

“And as if glowing superpowers weren’t bad enough,” Colonel O’Neill flung himself into a conference room chair hard enough to make it spin, the picture of thoughtful disgruntlement. Braced one foot against a table leg, and tipped his chair back. “We’ve got a _hacker_.”

Sam blinked, still trying to reorient her mind from Kayaba’s nightmare scenarios to the people who’d lived through them. She traded a glance with Janet, and nodded at Daniel as he leaned against the closed door. _Exploding pens. Kirito can... oh boy_. “Sir, these were online gamers. We’ve probably got several hundred hackers.”

Daniel grimaced, stealing his own chair. “She’s right, Jack. I’ve been reading some of the research on MMOs. The skill and age spread is... well, interesting.”

Jack leaned back in his chair with an _et tu, Daniel?_ look. “Right now it’s a little _too_ interesting.”

“Kazuto Kirigaya?” Sam guessed.

The colonel’s chair thumped down onto all five wheels. “How’d you-”

Sam held up her NervGear notes.

“Okay,” the colonel drew out the word. “Details.”

“Part of the problem everyone’s had with the SAO incident is lack of accurate technical details on how the programs and technology worked,” Sam obliged. “This NervGear was the most advanced version, and Kayaba wiped all the development documents.”

Jack stared at her. “What.”

“He got everything,” Janet informed him. “The company’s official documents were all destroyed.” She gave the colonel a frank look. “So think a little more kindly of those hackers. Without them, we wouldn’t have half the information we do now.”

“Kirigaya got most of the hardware schematics before the game opened,” Sam picked up the story. “Between his blueprints and the NervGear units we’ve taken apart from the deceased, we’ve figured out a few things Kayaba never meant to make public.” She laid her notes down on the table, pointing at two dark structures along the sides of the headgear. “Kayaba labeled these as the internal batteries. If he were using straight Earth-native tech, they would be this big. But he didn’t. He used something... well, amazing, sir. With a trace of naquadah-iridium alloy, he made very small, very-energy dense batteries. Area 51’s been reverse-engineering them. They put together a working prototype a month ago, and if we can produce these even on a small scale-”

“Maybe a little less detail,” Jack mused.

“Yes, sir,” Sam said ruefully. “Short version - using the mixed tech let him cut the space used for the batteries. Meaning here and here,” she indicated spots in the battery region, “he had plenty of room to store the nanites.”

“Huh.” The colonel poked the diagram himself, obviously chewing that over. “So that’s a _where_. Does it tell us anything about what, or why?”

“It tells us Kayaba set this all up in advance, to interact with this equipment and this game,” Sam stated. “None of this is in earlier NervGear models. And Kayaba got the news out early that older models wouldn’t be able to run Sword Art Online. He wasn’t unleashing nanites on just anyone, sir. He meant this specifically for the SAO gamers.”

“So he kept the nanites for people who were going to be dealing with SGC scenarios,” Daniel mused. “I suppose that’s better than just sharing out a cake.”

Jack _snrk_ ed. “Do I ever get to live that down?”

“No,” Daniel said wryly. “As long as marriage by candy bar stays in the base gossip, never. Remember, we give _them_ the sweets. Not the other way around.”  

“Sheesh, get stuck one time with aging nanites, nobody ever forgives you,” Jack smirked. “So, Carter. Given nobody’s ever going to be dumb enough to put one of these helmet-things on ever again - go back to the point where a _thirteen-year-old kid_ managed to hack Kayaba’s super-secret files.” He eyed Daniel. “You want me to believe that kind of thing is _normal_ for gamer nerds?”

“Hacking top secret documents? Maybe not,” Daniel admitted. “But hacking in general? Yes. That’s pretty common. A lot of these people love computers. They like to push the limits of what they can do. Like Sam and physics. ”

Sam tried not to blush.

“Okay, were-geek anthropologist,” Jack said wryly, “since explosive projectile pens aren’t problematic enough, what other _normal_ stuff are we likely to run into, with about six thousand gamers poking into every nook and cranny?”

“Right now?” Janet gathered them with her gaze. “I think there’s only one behavior we need to worry about.” She grimaced. “It’s called _PK_.”

Jack straightened in his chair. “You’ve got something.”

* * *

“It looks like Kayaba called it the Monument of Life.” Janet shook her head, passing around a printed screenshot. A polished stone wall of names, apparently in alphabetical order, some with two lines slashed through them. “I found a text file of the same names, with date, time, and cause of death. People we know are alive - Asuna, Agil, Klein - their names are in it, but the other columns are blank. Other names....” She looked over carved black stone again, eyes dark. “Causes of death so far include stabbed, impaled by trap spike, drowned, eaten by a dragon, falling through the air... name it, it probably happened to somebody.”

“Kayaba came up with all kinds of ways to die. Noted,” Jack agreed. If Janet was back on the same slow burn he felt, Kayaba had better hope the cops found him first. “So, somehow this turns out to be useful, not just more psycho taunting?”

“We can use it as a Rosetta Stone.” Daniel looked up from the picture, fiddling with his glasses as if that would hide how upset he was behind a shield of absent-minded professor. “We can compare the times of death to find their real names.”

“I still haven’t found anything in Kayaba’s files that mentions anyone’s legal name,” Janet nodded. “I wonder if that’s how he could do this. Who they were before the game didn’t matter to him; all he cared about was who he could make them become....” She shook it off, and pointed at the image; a block of names beginning with _K_. “You can see Kirito’s there, alive. Right and down... Kuradeel. His time of death looked familiar, so I ran a search on the text file to see if anyone had died just a few minutes before or after. And I found one. With those two names - Kuradeel and Godfree - and the time and day... I think I found something.” She swallowed dryly. “I just couldn’t watch it alone.”

Sam glanced at him. “Should we get Teal’c up here, sir?”

Jack thought about it, chewing his lip a bit. He wanted Teal’c to see it all, eventually. Right now? “Taking care of the critters is more important.”

Daniel raised his brows at Janet. “Maybe you should check him for a fever.”

“For the kids, not the critters,” Jack said pointedly. “They need to trust somebody, or we’re going to lose them to the monsters in their heads. I’d like it if they trusted the nurses. I’d love it if they trusted us. But right now, Teal’c seems to be the closest to getting through to them. They listen when he talks, and they believe him when he says he doesn’t know. I’ll take what I can get.” He waved at the monitor. “Roll ‘em.”

A date and time, over two weeks ago. A familiar sandstone canyon. A too-familiar laughing madman, tearing apart his disbelieving victim with deliberate stabs of a sword. Only this was no brief, horrifying flash of video.

“K-Kuradeel, what are you-”

“Oh, it’s not personal.” The grinning madman raised his blade. “But in my story, I’m the only one who returns alive....”

_Slash_.

“You see, our party,” another swing, slashing down Godfree’s HP, “was _ambushed_ by a group of PKers,” _slash_ , “and though we all fought... hee hee... bravely, two of us _died!_ ” _Slash_. “Only I was left....” Kuradeel reversed his grip on his sword, pressing it slowly down to impale Godfree as the man wailed. “So I drove back the criminals and managed to... stay alive... before returning to Headquarters....”

The sword thrust all the way through, emerging from Godfree’s back. Face caught in horrified disbelief, he shattered.

“Ah....” Kuradeel watched the shards disperse, exultant. “So sweet.”

_Good thing Teal’c’s not here_ , Jack decided, feeling all the hairs on his neck stand straight up. They’d all taken it upon themselves to teach the Jaffa about modern Earth culture; including law, order, right to a fair trial, and all that. The last thing Teal’c needed to see was his commanding officer coldly deciding that a certain human-shaped being no longer had any right to keep breathing.

_Cheer up,_ Jack reminded himself. _Janet told us this one’s dead. In a few more minutes even. I wonder who’s the lucky son of a gun who_ -

The camera panned wide, showing Kirito sprawled in the Knights’ white and red, struggling to even twitch a finger. Beside him a glassy bottle lay on its side, as if it’d been dropped there. An odd icon blazed on his life bar; the same that had gleamed on Godfree’s before his death.

_Kayaba, you son of a bitch_.

“Teal’c said they had poisons in the game.” Jack cursed under his breath, suddenly sure of what he was seeing as Kuradeel raised his blade and giggled his way over to Kirito. “Some were lethal. Some were paralytic. Damn it.”

Kuradeel stalked toward his next victim, that same mad grin stretched across his face as his sword grated over dirt and rocks. “Hey.” He crouched next to Kirito, confident the teenager was helpless. His voice was a teasing, sing-song whisper. “Because you’re such an _idiot_... I had to kill an innocent man.”

_Bastard’s laying the guilt on him for that?_ Jack thought. _Damn good thing he is dead_ -

“You seem... happy enough about it.” Kirito held the madman’s gaze, left hand barely twitching. “Why did you join the Knights? A criminal guild would have suited you better.”

“Kuradeel can’t see that hand,” Jack muttered. “Kid’s going to try something.”

“Kirito’s fighting the dose,” Janet observed with clinical calm, white-knuckled hand scratching out a few notes. “Maybe he got less. Or he’s more resistant. Godfree couldn’t fight it off. Kirito’s trying.”

“Keh; why ask something so obvious?” Kuradeel licked his lips, slow and deliberate. “It’s because of that girl.”

“Asuna?” Kirito’s face flushed red. “You damn bastard-!”

“Heh, why glare like that? It’s just a game, isn’t it? Don’t worry. I’ll look after your _precious_ Vice-Commander. After all, I have so many useful items.” He picked up the water bottle, shaking it as if the slosh was sweet as silver bells. “A criminal guild would suit me more? You’re sharper than I thought.” A touch made his left gauntlet vanish; another rolled up his sleeve, baring his forearm to view.

An ink-black tattoo sprawled across skin; a coffin, with eyes and the same mad grin, a white skeletal arm reaching out like death itself.

Kirito’s breath hissed. “Laughing Coffin!”

“Um-hmm.” Kuradeel smiled, nodding.

“A survivor.” Kirito’s voice cracked. “So it’s revenge?”

_Say what?_ Jack thought, incredulous.

“Why would I do something that stupid?” Kuradeel spat. “Though they did teach me this paralysis technique. Among others....” He stood, and lifted his sword, steel catching a glint of sun. “I should finish this now, before the poison wears off. I’ve been _dreaming_ of this, ever since that duel-”

Kirito’s left hand _moved_.

“Note to self,” Jack muttered, as Kuradeel swore and shook a small throwing spike from his arm. “Kirigaya is _ambidextrous_.”

_And he doesn’t give up. Paralyzed, alone with a crazy psycho bastard - he_ does not _give up. No wonder the Marines adopted him. Devil Puppy, right there_.

Jack tried not to listen, as Kuradeel began slowly torturing a teenage boy to death. Tried not to watch as glowing red gashes marked what should have been fatal wounds, blade slipping through cloth with ease where it should at least have jarred on bone.

“How does it feel to know you’re going to die?” Kuradeel whispered. “Say something, brat. Cry and scream that you don’t want to die!”

No pleading. No whimpers. Just a determined hand gripping Kuradeel’s blade, straining to keep the blade from digging in as Kuradeel cackled and bore down....

Wasn’t enough, as Kirito’s hand slipped off the blade. Only a shred of crimson was left in his life bar, dropping fast-

There was a _whoosh_ , like rushing wind.

Asuna’s blow blasted Kuradeel off his victim, a green blur almost flattening him against the canyon wall.

And she left him there.

_Stupid,_ Jack cursed to himself. _Damn it kid, you don’t turn your back on an enemy ‘til he’s down_ -

“I’m not too late.” Asuna’s voice shook as she dropped to her knees beside Kirito, pulling a ruby-pink crystal from her gear. “I’m not too late, you’re alive.... _Rohati!”_

The crystal shattered as she held it over Kirito. His life bar flashed back to full, leaving him gasping.

She touched his cheek as the glowing wounds vanished; looking into his eyes, then at his life bar. Nodded once. “Wait here. I’ll take care of this.”

_Then_ she turned on Kuradeel. Who was still picking himself off the ground, babbling something about a training accident.

Daniel snorted. “That’s not going to work.”

Jack raised a surprised brow. Coming from their resident optimist, that was saying something... _whoa_.

Kuradeel _had_ been fast enough to raise his sword.

He might as well have tried to fight a hurricane.

Asuna’s rapier was a flurry of light, driving Kuradeel back as his life bar sank like a rock, green to yellow to lurid red-

_“I’m sorry!”_

Throwing his sword aside, Kuradeel dropped to his knees, pleading. “I- I’ll leave the guild! You’ll never see me again-”

Asuna reversed her grip, prepared for a final stab.

_Damn it._ Jack cursed under his breath. _You’d better do it, kid; he’s not going to hold to that, you know it-_

Kuradeel shuddered. _“I don’t want to die!”_

Jack kept his gaze on the screen, but watched his team out of the corner of his eyes. He had a pretty good idea what Asuna was going to do. Did they?

The rapier stopped. Asuna shivered, obviously caught between what she knew Kuradeel had almost done and who she _was_.

_Sick psycho bastard_ , Jack winced. _He knew she couldn’t do it_.

Kill in the heat of battle? Yeah. People could do that. Not everybody, not by a long shot; even people who’d been on the front lines for two years might hesitate. Kill to protect your family? _Oh_ yeah. He’d rather face down a dozen militants with just a knife than one armed mother with her kids behind her. But her boyfriend was alive, and she was alive, and with the adrenaline wearing off... she couldn’t. Because deep down, Asuna was an honest, _decent_ person. Like Daniel. Like Sam. And there were things she just could not do.

The rapier dropped out of line.

_Oh hell._ Ice formed in Jack’s gut. _Kid, at least get his weapon away from him first!_

Still shuddering, Asuna turned back toward Kirito. The young swordsman was sitting up with an effort, the paralysis light fading off his life bar-

Seizing his sword, Kuradeel lunged back to his feet, striking out with a scream.

Asuna’s rapier flew out of reach, ringing. She jerked back to face him, stumbling on a stray bit of broken stone-

Grinning madly, Kuradeel whipped his sword up, then down at her head, glowing red with building energy. _“Naive little commander!”_

The strike never reached her.

Kirito was there, left arm sacrificed to take the blow, eyes dark and cold as Antarctic night. He pushed Asuna clear even as his severed hand shattered, right hand forming a familiar blade-hand shape that blazed yellow as the sun-

Stabbed, deep into a gap in Kuradeel’s armor, blasting the maniac’s HP down through red and gone.

The sword fell to the ground, steel clattering on stone. Kuradeel sagged over Kirito’s shoulder.

A dead man had no right to grin like that.

“Murderer,” Kuradeel breathed in his killer’s ear. And shattered, still laughing.

Kirito fell to his knees as glittering shards vanished in the wind, face drawn and blank. He blinked once, staring into the space where a living human had been a moment before.

Behind him Asuna was shaking, tears tracing crystalline tracks down her cheeks.

The video faded to black.

Jack loosened his shoulders, muscle by muscle, from the tight knots they’d made when he cringed. Two kids had just hit the limit of their ability to deal with sheer human nastiness. If the sick bastard weren’t already dead, Jack would have dealt with Kuradeel himself. No sixteen-year-old should know what it felt like to kill another human being with his bare hands.

_Make that_ , hand.

Worse, Kirito had made the right call. His partner was disarmed, he was crippled, and Kuradeel had made it damn clear he wasn’t going to stop. Not for anything short of a deathblow.

_He shouldn’t have had to make that call_.

But the absolute worst? Not Kuradeel; not even what Kirito had had to do to save himself and Asuna. Jack had seen people caught between death gliders and a hard place before. Those two had bent, but they hadn’t broken.

No. That wasn’t the worst. “Kayaba recorded this,” Jack said harshly. “Specifically this. Out of six thousand people still fighting and dying in his _game_ , he picks two scared kids having one of the worst days of their lives.” He thumped a fist on the table, white-knuckled. “What the hell did they ever do to him?”

“They were too good at the game.”

Not what he wanted to hear from Daniel. “Run that by me again?” Jack said pointedly.

Daniel didn’t look any happier the second time. “If someone is really good at a game - really, _really_ good at it - then you have to make it harder for them. Or no one else has any fun.”

Stunned, Jack pointed at the screen. “Not a game.”

“It was, to Kayaba.” Daniel winced. “If he was in the game, if he could tailor it... I’d guess all the high-level players have horror stories.”

Just when Jack thought he couldn’t hate Kayaba any more. “Thoughts, people?”

“I need to find a way to remind them that they won’t heal like that in real life,” Janet stated. “When Kirito fought Kayaba, he had two hands.” She eyed the screen. “So that was one of Laughing Coffin. No wonder our guild leaders were so worried.”

“That’s what they mean by _derentis_.” Daniel shuddered. “Do you think it was the nanites?”

“I think a good defense lawyer would try arguing that,” Janet said grimly. “In my medical opinion? No. Bill Warner did the autopsy on Kuradeel. If there had been anything organically wrong with his brain, aside from being dead, we’d have found it.” She made a frustrated noise. “I can’t rule out some kind of neurotransmitter imbalance. There are things that go wrong in the brain that we just can’t identify after the fact. But based on what we see? He was lucid. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing. My best guess is that he was a sick psychopathic bastard before the game ever got started. Then he found out all his fantasies could come true.”

“Like going through the ‘Gate.” The way Sam was studying the table grain as if it were the most fascinating piece of fake wood ever, she remembered her ex cracking all too well. “Once you’re off Earth... some people think they can get away with anything.”

“Which is probably why the system was set up to register aggressive behavior.” Daniel nudged up his glasses, thinking. “ _Orange_ players. When Kuradeel stabbed Godfree, his cursor turned orange.” He glanced at Jack. “But when Asuna went after him, her cursor stayed green. So did Kazuto’s. There was no penalty for self-defense.”

“I’ll make sure we thank Kayaba for small favors,” Jack noted sourly. “Falling through air, Doc?” He pointed at the screen. “Here’s a what-if for you. If Kuradeel drugged them, then dumped them off a hundred-foot cliff. Would Kayaba’s system call that _aggressive behavior?_ ”

Janet grimaced. “Good question.”

“One more thing, sir.” Sam gave him a thoughtful look. “Based on how he moves, and what we just saw... taking away the pens won’t be enough. Kirito’s unarmed combat looks pretty competent.”

Joy. Jack pointed at Janet’s keyboard. “So we’ve got another name. Anything in Kayaba’s files on Laughing Coffin?”

Already tapping keys, the doctor nodded. “Yes.” Another finger-stab put what looked like a Wiki entry up on the screen. “Formed sometime this January, membership - cute. Redacted.” She eyed blacked-out lines of text in a way that would have had Marines crying for their mommies. “Guild leader, redacted. Player-classed as a red guild. Number of known PKs... god. Over three hundred people.”

“Bad year,” Jack agreed.

Daniel and Janet traded a look. She raised an eyebrow. Daniel sighed.

“Okay, what am I missing?” Jack obliged. “Three hundred people. Bad year.”

“Very bad,” Janet deadpanned. “Given how many people were still alive when Laughing Coffin started? That’s a homicide rate of about four percent. In less than _eight months_.”

Um. But. “That’s the number of people who get killed in New York,” Jack objected.

“And the last I heard, Colonel, New York City had about eight million people within a mile of Times Square,” Janet persisted. “If New York had the same homicide rate as Kayaba’s game, we’d have over _three hundred thousand_ people dead on the streets, and the country would be screaming to send in the National Guard. Even Fiorello La Guardia wouldn’t be able to keep people from lynching him.”

Okay, that was bad.

“Look at it another way. No matter how big a society gets, every person tends to know about fifty other people,” Daniel put in, face grave. “Fifty times three hundred - Jack, that’s fifteen thousand people. More than twice as many as survived the game. _Everyone_ would have lost someone to Laughing Coffin.”

“If you crunch the numbers, sir, at that rate?” Carter put in. “Over those eight months, Laughing Coffin murdered more people than Kayaba.”

_Oh_. Shit. “You’re saying Doc made the right call,” Jack said reluctantly. “Get these guys away from the other victims.”

“We have six thousand people who’ve survived violent interpersonal interactions,” Daniel said, anthropological-formal. “They may have originated in a modern, pacifistic society, but they’ve lasted two years in an environment where violence is a _legitimate option_. And they don’t know where Kayaba is, but they do know _exactly_ who killed some of their friends. If their own leaders hadn’t stepped up and gotten them focused on immediate survival, we would have had riots already.”

Translation, _very_ bad. “We need security,” Jack grumbled. “A lot more security... Carter?”

His astrophysicist had moved around the table to join Janet at her keyboard, pointing at options as Janet scrolled down the rest of the entry. “We were looking at how the players handled this in the game, sir,” she reported. “Negotiating didn’t work. They killed the messengers.”

“Figure of speech?” Jack said hopefully. Not that he had a lot of hope, but-

“No, sir.”

Damn. “So what’d they try next?”

“Not sure, sir. It looks like we’re... loading video. Oh no.”

* * *

It looked like the preparations for yet another boss fight, Sam thought. Another great hall, filled with armed and armored players. The same clumps of groups - guilds - together. The same gathering of leaders around a map table; Asuna, Agil, Klein and Schmidt among others.

But Kirito and Argo were in open view, peering down at the map of what looked like a warehouse on seaside wharfs. And no one looked happy to be there.

“Thank you all for coming.” Asuna’s voice was quiet. Strained. “I know this isn’t easy. But we’re out of options. They have to be stopped.” She nodded to the room, and looked at Agil.

Axe over his shoulder, dark green armor dulled and muted, the cafe owner scanned the room, making eye contact with everyone. “Laughing Coffin’s killed over three hundred people that we know about. Some of us have driven them off their victims a few times, but that was mostly getting lucky. They pick their targets, they plan their attacks, and they know when we’re focused on the boss fights.” He grimaced. “If everything worked out right with the messaging, that’s what they think we’re planning, right now.” A flicker of a grin. “Boy, are they going to get a surprise.”

That sparked a few smiles. But none of them lasted long.

Schmidt took a deep breath, and tapped the map. “You all have the map data. The stealth team will go in first.” He glanced at Kirito and Argo, among others. “You’ll take positions to block their lines of retreat.”

Sober nods. Sam felt something congeal in her gut. _It can’t be what it sounds like. So many of them are kids_....

Schmidt turned to a group in heavier armor. “After they signal, the front team will go in to confront the Coffins head on. We need them to think you’re a small raid, poking around for an undisclosed boss-”

“Hey, we’re tanks, not actors!” someone called from the crowd. Trying to make a joke out of it, from the nervous laughs that followed.

“It doesn’t have to last long,” Schmidt allowed. “You just need to get their attention.” His smile turned grim. “Then the fast fighters go in. And we keep it simple. Laughing Coffin surrenders. Or they _don’t_.”

That chilled the room again.

Asuna straightened, drawing all eyes to her. “Remember. From the information our sources have gathered, no one gets into Laughing Coffin unless they can PK at least three players, and _prove_ it, without getting caught or flagged. That means _they have green members_.” She paused, letting that sink in. “That’s going to make this tricky. And they’ll know that. First, anyone green will be able to teleport out. Town guards won’t stop them. Second - they’ll try to force us to flag, so we start fighting each other. We will _not_ let that happen. Anyone forced to go orange - _pull out_. Show your guild colors, and retreat to the designated locations. We can wait a few days to get you back on the front lines. Don’t....” She swallowed dryly. “Don’t give them a win by being stupid.” She looked around the room. “Anything else?”

“Just one thing.” Klein moved around the table, so nothing was between him and the assembled fighters. “I know we don’t talk about the Otherworld. But back there, I was a U.S. Marine. I want to tell you what my instructors told me when I was first trained to use a weapon. It didn’t matter before. Now, it does.”

He drew his katana; one swift, subtle ring of steel.

“This, is a weapon.” He turned the blade, razor edge flinging back chill bits of light. “It’s made for people, by people, for one job. That job is _killing_.”

The room grew very still.

“You do not draw on another human being unless you intend to use it,” Klein said grimly. “You do not _use_ a weapon unless you intend to kill. No feints, no tricky moves, no _I’ll just aim for his hand_. If they’re not paralyzed and down, and you’re close enough to draw, you go for the center of mass. And you kill them. They want us dead. They’ve built an entire guild around seeing how many of us they can kill. For _fun_.” He sheathed the blade. “If this was the Otherworld, these bastards would all be locked up right now. But it’s not, and there is no one to stop these guys. Just us. We have to do this.” He looked over the room, not a trace of laughter in brown eyes. “But anybody who goes through with this... you’re never going to feel the same way about fighting again. If you think you can’t do this - step out now. _Please_. Do the brave thing, and tell us you can’t do it. We are never going to blame you for it. If you stay here, that’s fine. We’ll deal. If you come anyway, and you freeze, and Laughing Coffin kills you... please. Don’t do that to people who care about you. Okay? We’ve all lost too many people already.”

Players looked at each other. A few swallowed hard, and stepped away from the rest, shaking.

“Thanks,” Klein said simply. “Stay here, okay? Until the mission’s over. We don’t want them getting any idea what we’re up to, until it’s too late.”

The various groups started to break up, checking each others’ menus to synchronize timing. And Klein headed for Kirito like an arrow, using his body to conceal a blue crystal with red dots from the rest of the room as he pressed it into the swordsman’s hand. “Take it.”

Black eyes flared with alarm. “This is-”

“Corridor crystal,” Klein said shortly. “Set for a safe area. Agil’s giving Argo one now. If you get flagged, use them. No,” he persisted, when Kirito would have spoken. “No arguments, no ‘it’s too much’ - just _no_. You keep it. You use it. Damn it, you two don’t have a guild to look out for you if things go wrong! Argo deals in _information_. How many people do you think she’s ticked off? How many of them do you think would pass up a chance to go after her, if she went orange for a few days?” Klein slid a glance Schmidt’s way. “How many people in the Divine Dragon Alliance - _and other guilds_ \- want a piece of the Black Swordsman?”

Kirito winced.

“We need you two to stay alive.” Klein didn’t let black eyes slip away. “You’re not just front lines. You’re questers. You find the traps. You track down the rumors about special items. You tease out the gimmicks, so we don’t just wipe on a boss because someone forgot to drop the Phoenix Egg of Vashtal into molten lava, or put the Platinum Discs back on the dais to open the secret door.” He took a deep breath. “Kirito. Buddy. A lot of people can fight. You _figure things out_. If we’re going to make it to the top floor - we need you.”

Kirito looked aside. “I’m nothing special, Klein. You and Fuurinkazan-”

“We’re alive because of _you_. Idiot.” Klein sighed, letting it drop. “So you keep that. And if you have to, you use it.” The guild leader’s grin had a very sharp edge. “And if some jerk thinks they’ll just jump into the corridor after you... it goes right to the Renegade’s Camp.”

Kirito choked. “Klein!”

“What?” The redhead shrugged. “Old Cat’ll look after you two. Anybody friendly who comes with you will be just fine.”

Kirito was shaking his head. “But someone who hasn’t done the quest-”

“Will get shredded by a whole pride of angry, _high-level_ displacer beasts,” Klein said with satisfaction. “Serves them right.” The rough face softened a little. “Hey. You know Old Cat. He’ll let people run. _If_ they’re smart enough to back down.”

Kirito shivered, tucking the crystal away. “It feels like setting a trap.”

“It _is_ setting a trap. For someone who’d be trying to kill you, damn it!” Klein gripped his shoulder. “Did you listen to me? We’ve all lost enough people. I am _not_ going to lose you because some ego-happy maniac gets itchy fingers.” His shoulders fell. “Hell, I wish I could ask you not to go. If this were the Otherworld, I’d have somebody sit on you. I know you can’t be more than-”

“I’m _here_ ,” Kirito cut him off. “It doesn’t matter how old I am. How many players have enough Stealth to pull this off? You need me.” He looked Klein dead in the eye. “If I’m not there, you could lose Fuurinkazan. And Agil. And who knows who else.” His voice dropped. “I won’t stay here, Klein. I can’t.”

“Damn it,” Klein said thickly. “I wish I could argue with you. Why do you have to be so damn _good_ at this?”

“Heh.” Kirito almost smirked. Stepped back, and nodded. “You’d better party up with Asuna. We’ll meet you there.” He shrugged, carefully nonchalant. “We’ll be fine.”

Klein waited until he was lost in the crowd. “No,” the redhead said to himself, softly. “You won’t.”

* * *

The fight in the warehouse-turned-cult-center was as brutal and vicious as any Sam had seen through the ‘Gate. Its only saving grace was, it was fast.

_They put together a pretty good plan_ , Sam recognized, watching streaks of blue-gold light zip from the shadows, taking down at least a half-dozen of the coffin-tattooed foes with the odd little box on their HP bar that meant paralyzed. Those would have been some of the most dangerous sentries, up in the beams and rafters, where the first heavy rush wouldn’t have been able to reach-

The tanks burst in, and the fast fighters sped in after them, and the warehouse turned into hell.

_Oh god. So many of them are kids_.

Those were the worst, hurling themselves at the crusaders with cackling glee. Dying almost as fast, but they took too many stunned fighters with them....

A final moan, and the last body shattered. The only sounds were the shush of waves, and the harsh breathing of exhausted survivors.

_No blood_. Sam hugged herself, chilled, as she watched Asuna and other guild leaders do a headcount of their people outside on the docks. Watching faces crumple, as they totaled up their losses; eleven crusaders dead, while at least twenty of Laughing Coffin had died rather than surrender. _There should be so much blood_.

Argo slipped out of the shadows like a wraith, nodding to Asuna and gripping Klein’s armored shoulder. “It’s your lucky day. You get two bits of info, free. First, Kirito had to kill two of the bastards. Second-” She glanced toward a thicker patch of shadows. “He’s right over there.”

“Oh, damn it.” The way Klein breathed the words, they were almost a prayer. “Issin?”

The fighter with unruly brown hair gave Klein a thumbs-up. “Under control, Leader. Go get our _rurouni_.” He had a wistful smile. “Maybe this’ll get him to come out of the cold, huh?”

“We should be so lucky,” Klein grumbled as he headed that way. “Almost two years, and the _Black Swordsman_ still thinks people care about the Beater.”

“Some people do,” Asuna said quietly.

“Nobody who ought to matter.” Klein quickened his pace, boots thumping louder than they had to on the dock, so the black-coated figure at the water’s edge had every warning company was coming. “Hey. Buddy. You okay?”

“...I made them come after me.”

Sam winced at the empty tone. Pale skin, staring into the distance, no obvious emotion.... _Combat shock. A bad one_.

Evidently Klein knew it when he saw it, too. Fuurinkazan’s leader pulled what looked like a medieval version of a thermos out of his inventory, shoving it into half-gloved hands. “Drink it. You need to get warm.”

Kirito shook his head, face still blank. “I don’t want to be warm-”

Asuna stepped right into his space, eyes bright. “You’re not the only one who had to!”

Black eyes flinched, blinking reluctantly back to here and now. “Asuna?”

“No. I’m not okay.” Her face scrunched up; but she swallowed the tears, and looked him in the eye. “But I’m the Vice-Commander. I can’t cry here. And... it happened so fast. They came at me, I had to....” She gulped again, eyes shining. “What happened? You were in the back....”

“They brought a boat in under the warehouse. They came through a trapdoor we didn’t find,” Kirito got out. “They had some kind of smoke bombs, they were already lighting them... some Divine Dragons spotted them, but they were green. The Dragons wouldn’t attack first....”

Klein muttered something under his breath. “So you let the Coffins see you.”

One shallow nod. “I _baited_ them, Klein. It was a trap. _I_ was a trap. I didn’t give them a chance-”

The redhead swept him into a one-armed hug.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re an idiot,” Klein said thickly. “You’re a _live_ idiot, thank god... Kirito. Damn it, listen to yourself. You baited them with the _Black Swordsman_. And you’re still green. They took the first swing.”

“But-”

“They were Laughing Coffin. You know what they had to do to get in.” Klein let go, just enough to ruffle black hair. “You’re alive. They’re dead. The ones who aren’t, the Army’s got now. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Slowly, Kirito nodded, thermos tucked into one arm. Blinked again, and seemed to focus a little more. “Asuna. Are you going to be all right?”

“Vice-Commander?”

“Nijikaze.” Asuna seemed to relax a little, smiling at another female Knight whose neatly pinned-back hair was a rainbow of violet, blue, and rose. “I’m coming.” She looked at Kirito again. “I’ll be okay. Don’t you dare die on me!”

And she was off, a white and scarlet flame against the sunset.

Klein waited until she was almost out of sight to grin. “Pretty. And still single!”

“Klein!” Kirito’s face was flaming red.

“What?” The redhead gave him a sly look. “I can’t say my buddy’s got good taste in girlfriends?”

Kirito went even redder. “She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Sure, sure....” Klein took a few steps, then glanced back when the teen didn’t follow. “You know, Kunimittz was a medic before we all got stuck in here. This isn’t what he signed up for, either. You think you could help me talk to him?”

Kirito stared at him, wide-eyed. Shook his head, a rueful smile creeping onto his face. “You fight dirty.”

“Every day.” Klein grinned, leading his friend back to the rest of his guild. “Every damn day....”

* * *

“Darn it,” Jack grumbled as the screen went black. “How did the jarheads miss a guy with that much command potential?”

Trying to take notes, Janet finally gave up. What she’d just seen... it was enough to crush your faith in humanity and affirm it, all at once. People who’d never intended to raise a hand against fellow human beings had pulled together and done it, because they’d had to....

_It never should have come to that_.

“Maybe because they’re not the Air Force?” Daniel suggested. “Different skill sets.” He frowned. “Jack, we have to tell them.”

“No, we don’t.”

“We know things about them we never should have gotten a chance to ask,” Daniel argued. “They’re going to figure that out-”

“If they find out Kayaba’s sending us gloat-notes,” Jack cut him off, “they’re never going to listen to us-”

Janet’s clipboard slammed on the table like thunder. “That is _enough!_ ”

Only Sam didn’t look surprised.

“August, Colonel.” Janet made herself breathe. Made herself _think_. “The timestamp says the Laughing Coffin fight happened in August. That means that young man you want to treat like a cranky teenager has been forced to kill at least four people in hand-to-hand combat in the past _four months_. He’s not a recruit. He’s a scared young man who wants to go home. Multiply that by _six thousand_.”

“Maybe not.” Daniel held up a hand, _wait_ , when she glared. “Probably a lot of people have horror stories. Anyone who went after Laughing Coffin, definitely. But think about it, Janet. If this information is part of Kayaba’s message, another of his games... what do almost all of these videos have in common?”

“Kirito,” Janet admitted grudgingly. “Right from the start of the game. Damn it, why? A teenage kid-”

“The same kid who hacked Kayaba’s files.” Daniel pointed at Sam’s notes, then the monitor. “What did he say? If you don’t like the rules, _change the game_.”

Jack almost whistled. “You think he knew about the hacking?”

“You could set up files so there would be access traces left, yes,” Sam admitted. “It’d be hard to do it so a hacker wouldn’t know he’d been traced, but... Kayaba had the skills to do it.”

Jack’s eyes were hooded. “He wanted Kazuto to win.”

“I think Kirigaya is listed as the top player for a reason.” Daniel ran his fingers over his notes. “Make that a lot of reasons. He doesn’t fold under pressure. He’s learned to fight cooperatively with other allied groups; I wish we could teach the Tok’ra that. He knows how to pick up languages. How to survive making first contact.” He grimaced. “He even knows how to deal with people who are supposed to be your allies stabbing you in the back.”

“See NID, Maybourne, Tok’ra, and so on.” Jack drummed his fingers on the table, obviously not happy. “All right. Spit it out. Kayaba won.”

“If you want to call it that.” Daniel didn’t look any happier. “Or you could just say he succeeded. Ten thousand people dumped into SGC training scenarios. Six thousand survivors. Jack, we have to talk to these people. We have to find out what they did right, and what those who died did wrong-”

Janet bristled. “They got trapped by a madman,” she cut across his words, almost wishing she had her hands on a scalpel. Sam was trying to hide it, but it didn’t take a doctor to notice how stiff she was; how the major was looking anywhere but at her teammates. This had to be like Jolinar all over again. Only worse, because Jack and Daniel knew damn well no one had volunteered for this. “They meant to play a _game_. Instead, they got locked into a waking nightmare. So help me, Daniel, if anyone tells these people it’s _their fault_ some of them are dead-!”

Behind glass, blue eyes were bleak. “Janet, we have to use this.”

She gaped at the archaeologist, completely taken aback. She’d known Daniel could be cold-blooded under pressure. You couldn’t keep saving the planet by the skin of your teeth with Jack O’Neill and not develop a deep, dark streak of ruthlessness when the chips were down.

The problem was, the planet didn’t need saving right this minute. No one needed saving right now, unless you counted people suddenly petrified of stubbing their own toes. What was going on here?

“Why?” Sam’s voice was almost steady. “Daniel, they’ve risked their lives for two years. They aren’t a study group. They’re people. People who want to go back to their own lives.”

“Exploding pen,” Jack said dryly.

“Ribbon device,” Sam shot back.

“Difference being, we can lock up the ribbon device,” Jack pointed out. “We can’t lock up the fact that Asuna can drag along a guy her own size like a feather duster. Or that Tsuboi and every other clearer we’ve seen moves faster than a ticked-off rattlesnake. Or that Kazuto just flat-out _disappears_ when he doesn’t want to be found. Much as I hate to consider it, Major, if you ever resigned, you could probably go the rest of your life without causing a security breach. Kazuto? Two words, Carter. _High school_.”

Both Daniel and Sam cringed at that one.

Janet frowned. “So he’s been out of school two years. He’s bright.”

“That would make it worse,” Daniel said judiciously. “Trust me. I had it bad enough, and at my height most of the bullies decided to pick on somebody smaller. Kazuto’s barely your size.”

“Only he’s a guy,” Jack sighed. “Sooner or later, somebody’s going to take a swing at him. At which point, one of two things happens.” One finger went up. “He lets them hit him.” A second. “Or - he doesn’t.” Jack dropped his hand, and shrugged. “I’m kind of leaning toward _doesn’t_.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Daniel muttered. Cleared his throat, when Jack gave him a raised brow. “He’s good at violence. That doesn’t mean he likes it. What Kayaba did in that last fight.... I know what I felt when I thought all of you were dead in Apophis’ ships. I’m not sure I could have ever picked up a gun again if you hadn’t been okay.”

Jack let out a slow breath. “Danny....”

“I know you wouldn’t feel the same way,” the archaeologist went on, determined. “That’s just the way it is. But if I’d lost you all, I just - couldn’t keep doing this.” Daniel grimaced. “Kayaba may understand Ancient technology, but his grasp on human psychology sucks. There’s a limit to how much anybody can lose and still keep going. Kazuto... he’s really close to that edge.” He glanced around the table. “We need him to be safe with his friends. At least for a little while. Long enough for him to know he’s still got people to lose.”

Sam was pale. Janet caught her gaze, and squared her shoulders. _I’ll take this battle, Sam_. “Dr. Jackson.” She laced the formality with all the _don’t mess with me_ she could muster. “I’d expect an attitude like that from the colonel. He’s paid to think of military applications. Including talking new recruits into signing up for interstellar death and glory.”

“Nice to be appreciated,” Jack quipped.

“But word in the Mountain is that it’s you who pushed the buck all the way up to the President, to get science and culture equal time with military needs,” the doctor went on darkly. “If I understand what I’m hearing from you, we have an entire subculture here. Earth-born, yes, but it’s a real society. And you just want to use people in it?” She softened her tone. “Daniel, what’s wrong with you?”

Almost, he put her off with a glib answer. She could see it lurking in the shadows behind his glasses.

Daniel sighed instead, and rubbed at an oncoming headache. “What I do isn’t science, Janet. Science would be careful. Science would take time to develop theories and test them by experiment, instead of rushing through translations and hoping I get it right before something else blows up. What I do - it’s not science. It’s rescue archaeology. We pick our way through the ruins and yank out anything that might be worth saving, because god only knows if the planet will be there tomorrow.” Slowly, he shook his head. “Yes, they’re people. People who aren’t from offworld, so the Tok’ra and Asgard won’t care what happens to them. People who have things we _need_. I spent days at the Alpha Site. Best and brightest, my foot. Whose crazy idea was it to send a pile of scientists and politicians with nobody there who knows how to feed them? If Earth had been destroyed, most of us would have starved in a month.” He gestured at the monitor. “They have farmers. Fishermen. Blacksmiths. Kayaba didn’t just make fighters. He made people who could _colonize a planet_.”

Sam blinked. Shuddered. “Kayaba thinks we’re going to lose.”

“Given he called the state of galactic politics an unwinnable game? Yes,” Daniel nodded, eyes hard. “He thinks we’re going to lose. The NID. The SGC. The Asgard. All of us.”

“Not going to happen,” Jack said flatly. “So let’s figure out how we’re going to keep these guys on our side.”

“If we can get the guild leaders on our side, the rest of them should follow,” Daniel stated. “We just need to figure out what they want that we can give them.”

“We’ll figure out what they want,” Jack corrected him. “You can spend half your time on that, and the other half on what the SGC needs to do more than rescue archaeology.”

“Jack!”

“Kayaba said we need to change the rules.” The colonel scowled. “He’s a psycho, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. You say we’ve got a problem. Let’s fix it.” He scanned the room, meeting everyone’s eyes. “Okay, people. It’s been a long day. Let’s give the general a fifty-words-or-less.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rohati - heal, thrive.
> 
> Old Cat is the players’ in-game name for the displacer pride Elder based off Master Bra’tac.

**Author's Note:**

> Nikkei - descendents of Japanese emigrants.   
> DEX - dexterity.  
> DPS - Damage per second; a character that focuses on dealing a lot of damage in a short period of time. Often a DPS-character can’t absorb as much damage as some other characters optimized for endurance (for example, tanks) can.   
> God-mod - the Mary Sue of RPGs. Usually a specific character, meant to be unbeatable. Implies the god-modder has set up situations specifically to show off how Awesome their character is - most egregiously, by highlighting their character's (artificially) superior abilities through deliberately making other characters look weak and puny in comparison. Heathcliff’s original duel with Kirito is one example. Although that ended up backfiring eventually, when Kirito figured out no player could be that fast....  
> Mob - game monster.  
> STR - strength.   
> Specced - specialized.   
> Tank - a character that focuses more on “holding the line”; while they can often do a lot of damage, their job is to draw the mob’s attacks away from more fragile characters in the party.


End file.
